Wrought Iron Cages
by Razvanor
Summary: We all live in one iron cage or another. Some cages are simply more stained with guilt and pain. Nightwing, fettered to the life of an assassin. Starfire, chained to the life as an alien freak.AU Teen Titans
1. First Impressions

**Wrought Iron Cages**

The Shattered Moon shone fragmented light down on the dismal, layered City. Lights winked on and off in the towering skyscrapers as if trying to outdo the star-speckled sky above. Wind whistled of the jutting corners and carved gargoyles of an enormous church on the seventh and highest level of the City, where a dark figure stared down from the steeple at the distant road built into the side of the structure. Eyes hidden behind a band of black glass spotted a small group of men turning the corner of the church, laughing wildly. Emotionlessly, the dark figure grabbed a long silver pole before jumping off of the towering roof without hesitation.

The dark figure free-fell for nearly one hundred feet before sub-vocalizing a command to an implanted cybernetic chip. A soft beep of acknowledgement sounded before the pole suddenly grew blades at both ends. Effortlessly, the pole was shoved into the stone work of the church, where it tore a long gash down to the street. Stopping several feet before slamming into the ground, the metal staff was wrenched out of the wall, allowing the figure to drop the small distance. Landing on crouched feet, the glass covered eyes watched the corner where they knew the group would round at any moment.

True to prediction, a band of about eight men came into view. Almost instantly, they noticed the crouched figure gripping a bladed pole. A richly dressed man with greasy hair gasped slightly. With a shaky finger, he pointed at the dim outline in the shadows. "W-who's there. S-step into the light."

A young man slowly stepped into a circle of light cast by a lonely street light. Long, straight black hair hung over a solid black trench-coat, which covered a solid black shirt. Solid black pants, shoes, and the black, glass band covering his eyes completed the dark ensemble. Dressed for the shadows. Slowly, a hand reached for the glass band and pulled them off, revealing cold, ice-blue eyes. They stared without emotion at the rich man, the empty look boring into the quivering man's soul. "Sidmond Vestra, I have come to see the end of your miserable life. Your continued patronage of the Slade faction ends tonight. As well as your illegal drug trafficking."

"M-men, whoever kills him first g-gets whatever he asks for. Anything." The greasy man gestured wildly at the assassin. The seven bodyguards grinned and began to yank out guns. Three died before they could pull out their weapons. The remaining four stared in horror as their companions shrieked their last breaths, collapsing in the swiftly growing pool of thick, crimson liquid on the ground. One began to shoot at the assassin desperately as the killer dodged the bullets effortlessly. The gun in the bodyguard's hand was the first to fall in two, swiftly followed by the bodyguard's torso. The man gurgled as he fell alongside the other dead. The last three bodyguards quickly met a similar fate.

The assassin slowly straightened from the last swing, his face and clothes flecked with drops of red. His eyes still cold, emotionless,…dead. Sidmond Vestra backed frantically against the unyielding stone of the church, whimpering and sobbing loudly and shamelessly. The assassin stood imposingly in front of him, the pole held in a stabbing position. "For a better City," he said without intonation.

A single, long scream was cut short in the dead night in a lonely part of the City.

---

CLANK!

A metal pole fell to the ground inside a dark apartment. A blood drenched coat was thrown carelessly on top of a small, metal and glass coffee table. Silent feet walked toward a bathroom, eyes comfortable in the dark. The sound of running water followed by a thick steam of hot mist. Light red water gurgled down a drain, chased by a long, shuddering sigh. A hand reached for the shower handle and turned off the stream of heated water. He still felt dirty.

Thick black locks clinging wetly to his face and neck, the dark assassin pulled on some clean clothes. All black. Heading for the kitchen, he finally turned on a light and noticed the small, grey envelope on the ground. Without a sound, he opened the letter and pulled out the paper.

_Nightwing,_

_Apprehend and detain Koriand'r (Project 143). Await further instructions._

_-Knight_

Nightwing sighed and tore the paper to shreds.

---

Koriand'r, or Starfire as she was affectionately dubbed by her close friends, was whistling lightly while skipping ahead of her three best friends. There wasn't much to do in the Base, other than do schoolwork, tease the guards, or stare blankly at the ceiling in the living quarters. That's why Starfire enjoyed these carefully monitored walks in the enclosed gardens they were allowed once a day. They made her feel as if she were free, if only for an hour.

"_Will_ you stop whistling, Starfire," droned a rather dark looking girl, holding a small book portraying a rather desolate looking castle on the front cover.

Starfire grinned happily at the girl…and gave out a particularly sharp whistle. "Raven, if I wish to whistle, I shall whistle. There are no laws prohibiting this."

Raven rolled her eyes and returned to her book while walking. The large, metal covered black man nudged her lightly with his elbow. "Rae, how on earth can you read while walking? I'm surprised you haven't walked into a pole or something."

Raven ignored him. A small, green teenager with pointed ears chuckled. "Dude, I'd love to get that on camera. BONK!! That would be so rich." He turned to the metal man. "Yo, can't you record her with your little red eye, Cyborg?"

Raven glared at him. "Yes, he could. That is, if he wanted his head torn off so I could promptly delete the evidence."

Starfire winced and giggled. "That sounds rather painful." She walked backwards, hands behind her back. "Beast Boy, what is the current time?"

The green boy fumbled with his wrist-watch. "Uh, hold on, I had the radio function on." He mumbled to himself as he flipped through the settings built into the watch. "TV, Internet, today's menu, calendar, whatever that function was…Ah, it's about nine."

Starfire gasped. "We must hurry to bed." She lowered her eyes. "This month's testing is tomorrow."

The friends glanced at each other sadly. Beast Boy tried smiling. "Uh, m-maybe it won't be so bad this time. M-maybe just s-some endurance and strength stuff."

The others tried smiling as well, but failed miserably. Suddenly, an alarm sounded out, accompanied by a flashing red light on the far wall of the garden. The four teenagers glanced at each other quizzically.

Over the klaxon siren, a computer voice rang out. **_"Intruder detected. All systems begin lockdown. This is not a drill, repeat, this is not a drill."_**

A guard suddenly ran up to them. "Get to your rooms before the lockdown initiates," he said breathlessly. "They're probably here for one of you."

The four nodded and suddenly ran in different directions. Starfire quickly lost sight of her friends as she left the gardens and ran for a thick metal door, her name written on a small plate. Pressing her hand on a green pad, it scanned her prints and opened the door. Running into the sparsely furnished room, she jumped into the bed and pulled the covers over her head as the resounding click of locks disturbed the silence. Slowly lowering the covers, Starfire glanced fearfully around. A shelf full of stuffed animals, a desk with a computer and swivel chair, a small rug on the metal floor, her alarm clock blinking the time on her bedside table. Nothing suspicious, nothing out of the ordinary. Just quiet.

Suddenly, the ventilation shaft on her ceiling burst open and a lithe body dropped to the floor. Starfire shrieked loudly, holding the bed sheets to her chest. The stranger stood up, a metal pole balanced precariously over his shoulder. "You're coming with me."

Starfire slowly backed away on the bed until her back rested on the cool metal wall behind her. "H-how did you bypass the ventilation shaft's lockdown? How on Tamaran did you navigate that labyrinth, for that matter?" She glanced toward the door. "Goodness knows, I've tried twice and had become thoroughly disoriented."

The dark man spoke without emotion. "I'm a professional. Now, let's both make this easy on ourselves." He pointed at the open grate above him without looking. "Get in there before I force you to."

Starfire's hands and eyes took on a green aura. "I should like to see you try, human." She flung a shimmering green sphere at him, which he merely dodged. The sphere detonated behind him, taking out the desk and chair. Starfire growled and flung two spheres. The man knocked them back with his metal pole, earning an exclamation of surprise as the girl was knocked back into the wall with her own weapons. She moaned, rubbed her eyes slowly, and glanced at the dark stranger slowly before promptly succumbing to the merciful dark.

---

"No, I can't keep her here.

A pause.

"Yes, it is a problem. I can't have her here."

Another pause. Pacing.

"Screw trust. I want her out."

Another pause. Angry breathing.

"Very well, but how long is she supposed…"

A sigh.

"Very well sir."

Silence. Starfire slowly opened her eyes. Groaning, she glanced around, her head throbbing madly. She felt limp, her whole body aching. She tried to lift a hand to her head and found her other arm following by itself. She gasped.

Slowly, almost lazily, Starfire realized that she had been handcuffed, her arms before her. One of her legs was also restrained. She followed the thin energy trail from her foot to a metal post. A bed post. She tugged feebly, but couldn't seem to function properly.

"You're awake."

Starfire winced as the lights overhead flipped on, stinging her eyes. Slowly, she cracked her eyes open to see the dark man from the Base standing before her. His metal pole was gone, as was his trench coat. For some odd reason, she thought of how he didn't seem much older than herself. His glass band around his eyes had not been removed, but she could feel his eyes flickering over her, as if studying her.

"You might find yourself a little helpless at the moment. My boss obviously knows ways to restrain a Tamaranian. He even outfitted the walls with some sort of metal that you can't break through." His head turned to the wall, as if he could see the aforementioned metal through the drywall. "When he did all this, I have no idea."

The girl also looked around. She was lying in a large bed in a white room with a closet and a white door leading to somewhere. Overall, it was very uninteresting.

"Why are you holding me captive, dark stranger?"

The man's head snapped back to her for a moment before he turned around and headed for the door. "I have no idea." He left the room, closing the door behind him. Starfire sighed and leaned back against the pillows.

* * *

Hmm, decided to try my hand at a little Teen Titan fan fiction. As you may have noticed, this story is grossly AU. And I renamed Robin as Nightwing because I am utterly convinced that it's Richard (Dick) Grayson under that mask, the first Robin. Also, the team in the show seems to point toward the very first Teen Titans team. Only now, they're missing the Kid Flash and Wonder Girl. I seriously think that the poetic licenses taken in the making of this show were taking things from all over the comic strips and mashing them into a conglomeration of inaccuracies. I mean, the staff thing is really Tim Drake's (Third Robin), but in the "Starfire's gets smacked into the future" episode, he's Nightwing.

Ooh, I'm ranting, aren't I. Ranting is bad, bad author. Um, just so you know, the story takes a bit of the scenario from a Rurouni Kenshin fic, a Star Wars/The Negotiator type city, various elements of science fiction, and a whole lot of Teen Titans. Next Chapter is in the works.

-Razvanor


	2. Manhunt

**Chapter 2**

Beast Boy yawned cavernously as he sat up in bed, scratching at his unruly green hair. Emerald eyes slowly moved back and forth, panning the room. Piles of filthy laundry, a computer with a pair of briefs thrown on it carelessly, a neatly organized gaming system complete with a shelf full of game cartridges. He yawned again, stepped out of the bed…and nearly fell over as Cyborg burst into the room.

The metal man looked grave as he stared sadly at the shape-shifter. "Star's gone," he stated simply. His metal prosthetics squeaked lightly as he shifted his weight from one foot to another while staring at the floor. "They got in through the vents and took her somewhere where we can't track her."

Beast Boy gaped. "W-what? Th-that's impossible. No one could have gotten through the vents." He hurriedly threw on some still clean clothes. "Does Raven know?"

Cyborg nodded slowly. "She's taking it kinda hard though." He chuckled mirthlessly. "Actually, the whole Base is taking it bad. I heard it's a freakin' chaos up in Observation."

Beast Boy numbly sat on his bed and covered his face with his hands. "Oh man, I-I really hope she's all right." He sighed and looked at his metal friend. "M-maybe it's better she got out of here anyway. They can't test her anymore if she's not here." Suddenly, the changeling jerked upwards as he felt the cybernetic chip in his hand begin to vibrate softly. Tapping the back of his hand twice, a small screen suddenly appeared. Scanning the short message, Beast Boy sighed. "Looks like they want us in Observation."

Cyborg growled angrily and followed his green friend out the door.

---

Sunlight stabbed down through the barred window on the left of the bed, striking Starfire's face and turning the inside of her eyelids red. Moaning irritably, she flipped on to her side, away from the window.

The door suddenly swung open, where her kidnapper stood framed by light from the other room. Yanking the bed quilt of the young girl, he stood staring at her from behind the dark glass band. Emotionless.

Glaring angrily at the man, Starfire tried to grab the covers back. "I wish to sleep longer and seeing as you will possibly slay me before the day's end, I believe it is a reasonable last request."

The man continued to stare at her, making her squirm under his gaze. "Those were not my orders, Miss Koriand'r."

"Then what are, Mister…" Starfire let the sentence drag on, trying to drag a name from the stoic kidnapper.

"Nightwing, and my instructions were simply to detain you." He threw something to her. A small key. "You have permission to walk around this apartment. Don't bother escaping. My supervisor's men will bring you down if you so much as try to rattle the doorknob. And believe you me, they are not as gentle as I am." He turned to leave. "I have things to attend to. There is some breakfast on the table in the kitchen." With that, he was gone.

Starfire grumbled momentarily in her native tongue before releasing herself from her restraints. Rubbing her wrists, she explored the apartment. The bedroom, a bathroom, a living room, and a kitchen. Absolutely nothing of interest. The drab white of the walls held no framed holographs, no decoration of any sort. A holo-screen sat pinned to the far wall, the screensaver displaying the time. Picking up the holo-screen's remote, she briefly flipped through the scant channels. News, a day-time cartoon about fluffy animals, more news. It was rather obvious that her kidnapper was not one for entertainment. Switching it to the Internet, she scanned the history files. He hadn't used it in the past month, and then only to look up information on some business man.

Sighing, she turned toward the kitchen. A simple metal table with three chairs sat against the wall. A small plate of bacon, eggs, and toast were all ready set out for her. Sighing again, she headed for the modest repast.

---

Nightwing stood with his back to an enormous window, displaying the very tops of the enormous buildings of the City. Before him, a large mahogany desk stretched out in an imperial fashion, it semi-glossy varnish reflecting light faintly. He mused almost subconsciously, wondering where his supervisor could have acquired the wood. Perhaps he imported if from Old Earth.

"You wanted to see me, sir." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, I did." A well-built business man sat in a red-leather chair, again something probably imported. "It's about the girl." His deep, low voice wavered up and down smoothly, almost intoxicatingly. His chiseled face stared at his top assassin, deep blue eyes scanning the dark man's face. "I'm sure you're wondering about that little fact." The business man lifted an eyebrow, his fingers knotting together under his chin. Calm and collected. A true leader of men.

"Yes, I was. Why don't you send her down to the labs so your scientists can tinker with her?" Nightwing stared into his employer's face. "I can't have her in my apartment, sir."

The man leaned back in his chair, his head leaning on his fingers, his mouth tugging into a smirk. "What, don't trust yourself around beautiful girls?"

Nightwing remained emotionless. "You and I both know that's not the case, Wayne."

"Uh-huh." A pause. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. You're both about the same age anyway." Wayne didn't let the smirk leave his face as he purposefully tried to get some emotion from the stoic assassin. He knew it wouldn't work. "Actually, I think we can fit her into our plans. She would make a wonderful addition to our faction, wouldn't you agree."

Nightwing actually let his own smirk play at the corners of his lips. "Her powers would be helpful, but she's just a kid. Rough, untrained, unrefined. Just a play thing of a government branch gone wrong. Just like all those other freaks they have holed up in that Base of theirs." He snorted lightly. "Stupid fool should have never left her planet. Could have saved herself a lot of pain."

Wayne nodded. "As true as all you say might be, we still have a use for her." He withdrew a square mini-disk from his pocket and handed it to Nightwing. "Take a look over her medical files. I'm sure you'll see that it won't take much to 'train' her, as you put it."

"But still, she's a kid." Nightwing's eyes stared at the ground, hidden by the glass band. "I don't want what happened to me to happen to her."

"It's not your choice, Grayson," Wayne pointed out calmly.

Nightwing winced at his own name. "I understand, sir. But I'm sure she won't be as enthusiastic about all this as you are."

"You don't have to worry about that." Wayne leaned back into his expensive chair. "She will come willingly, if not happily, once I explain things to her." He motioned towards the door. "You're dismissed."

Nightwing nodded his head once in acknowledgment. "For a better City."

Wayne nodded back gravely. "Indeed, for a better City."

---

Cyborg and Beast Boy stood stiffly before their own supervisor in the small, metal room that served as an office for the small man sitting in the chair behind a gleaming metal desk. A small sign proudly displayed the man's name, 'Colonel Davidson'.

"Do you know why you are here, boys?" Davidson brushed a hand through his gray, thinning hair. He seemed tired, as if he didn't get enough sleep the night before.

Beast Boy lifted a finger. "Um, because you love the sound of our voices?" he offered tentatively.

"Hardly," the man flatly stated.

Cyborg looked at the ground. "It's Star, isn't it?"

"Yes, exactly. Project 143 was kidnapped last night, as you well know and…"

"Starfire, not 143," Cyborg corrected, lifting his head to stare at the militaristic man before him. "She has a name, you know."

The colonel waved him off. "That's beside the point. I need you to you to find her and get her back. Both of the factions want her. I don't need to tell you that she has massive potential as a weapon. As soon the rest of your team arrives, I'll outline specifics."

As he spoke, the door behind them slid open, revealing an angry Raven, a girl with pink hair, and, oddly enough, a small little fox-like thing floating at Raven's head level.

Beast Boy looked incredulously at the three figures. "Um, I understand Raven and Jinx, but what's that?"

"GREEN MAN," the little fox screeched in a babyish voice and promptly flew over to hover in the changeling's face. It was barely half a foot tall and less than two inches wide(including its long tail), with brown and white fur and shiny little button-like eyes and nose. The legs were digit-less, leaving the fox with only small, flat pads to wave around. It continued to screech as it hugged Beast Boy's face as best it could. It was surprisingly strong. "OH, GREEN MAN, WE GONNA HAVE LO'SA FUN."

Beast Boy whimpered around a face full of fox. Raven moaned and lifted her hand to her temple. "It is way too early for this."

Jinx chuckled and pried the small fox off of Beast Boy's face. "Aww, it's so adorable." She tickled the fox's soft stomach. It promptly giggled and wrestled with Jinx's finger.

"Ahem, yes, well, you'll find Sneak a helpful asset in your quest to track Koriand'r." The colonel stood up slowly. His age was showing. "We have a clue. Not a very good one, but a clue nonetheless." He pressed a small button on a remote control. The holo-screen on the left wall suddenly flickered to life. It was a grainy video camera shot, taken in the dead of night. A lone guard was slowly making his rounds on the exterior walls of the Base, pausing every now and then to glance around. Suddenly, a spray of dark fluid erupted from the man's chest before he toppled over. Then, the screen went to snow.

Sneak yelped unhappily at the gruesome sight. "That icky," he moaned childishly. Davidson ignored him and rewound the footage until it froze on the image of the guard's chest being thrown forward powerfully by something off screen. A few trails of blood were just beginning to pour out of a wound.

"So," sighed Cyborg slowly. "Where's the clue? I just see a poor sap being killed."

Davidson glanced at the metal man briefly before pressing another button on the remote. A certain point on the guard's chest zoomed into focus. They all strained their eyes, and saw something metal and triangular just poking past the guard's clothes.

Beast Boy scratched his head. "Uh, so?"

"No," Cyborg said suddenly. "No, wait. I think I got it." He walked up to the screen and jabbed a finger at the triangle. "It's some sort of large blade. You can tell because it's too flat to be a bullet. The guard was stabbed in the back with something larger than a knife. A knife would be slim, but this blade is too wide."

The colonel seemed impressed. "Yes, that's exactly what my analyzers said. But it took them a while to find that particular frame. It was a lightning quick blow, because the tip isn't there in the next frame." He turned off the holo-screen. "We're dealing with some highly-trained fighters. I have no doubt that one of the factions have her stored away somewhere. They've been after her for a while now." He sighed and rubbed his forehead.

Raven spoke suddenly. "Do you really intend to release us for this little job? What makes you think we won't try and run away the first chance we get?"

The colonel laughed. "And where would you run to? You are all orphans, all freaks. Who would accept you? Who would feed you and house you?" He sat back in his chair, smugly. "And it is no hard thing to track you. You belong to the government and you are all valuable assets. Every freak in this Base is an asset. Get over your silly notions of freedom." Davidson grinned. "Quite frankly, we're the closest you'll ever get to freedom."

Raven clenched her jaw angrily slightly, fighting rage down.

"Now that we're all on the same page, you will be escorted out and then you better start snooping around. I will keep in contact through the chips." He tapped his left hand, where his own chip's screen suddenly appeared. "I would start at the lower levels of the City. Ask around for a fighter with some sort of large, bladed weapon. If they decide not to talk, you may use whatever means you see fit. If your little search leads you to the upper levels, use your heads."

Davidson glanced at each in turn. "But I want that girl back, no matter what. Now get going." He waved them out. They all moved en mass out the door.

A troop of soldiers escorted them to the outer gates, where they were left staring at the tree bordered road leading away from the Base. Beast Boy sighed. "Well, let's go find us an alien."

* * *

Sneak is an original character. DO NOT ask what I was thinking. You just wouldn't get it.

-Razvanor


	3. Tortured Souls

**Chapter 3**

Nightwing unlocked the door to his apartment and held his pole out defensively. Two starbolts suddenly flew at him. Swiftly, he deflected them, leaving burn marks on the wall and in the carpet. A sigh of disappointment sounded out in the dim apartment. Nightwing switched on the light, never one to embrace voice activated technology. Scanning the room, he saw Starfire suddenly lunge for the open door. He closed and locked it swiftly before throwing himself against the alien and forcing her back against the wall.

He snarled and slapped her. Still grabbing her shoulders, he slammed her against the wall. "I told you that escape is impossible." He briefly glanced at the door and walls, all dented from some powerful force. More than likely a pair of fists trying to find aweak spot in theunyeilding prison.He glared back at her, and was momentarily startled to find her glaring right back at him. His powerful grip on her shoulders lessened slightly before applying more pressure. Starfire winced but simply stared at Nightwing with powerful defiance.

Grunting slightly, he released her and let her slide to the floor. "You're not afraid of me, are you?" The question was blunt, all anger gone from his voice. His face was once again emotionless.

Starfire blinked back tears of pain and rubbed her bruised shoulders, still scowling. "You are most powerful, but, no, I have nothing to fear from a coward who hides his eyes behind glass."

Nightwing didn't even twitch at the insult. "I reveal my eyes to those who I kill. Everyone deserves to see the eyes of their slayer." His mouth moved without a sound as he sub-vocalized to his cybernetic chip. The pole he had dropped on the ground during his assault suddenly grew blades and zipped to his open hand. "You do realize that I can kill you."

Starfire clenched her jaw. "Of course I do. I also realize that you are not one to distribute empty threats. But fear is useless and therefore, I do not fear you."

Nightwing growled and dropped his pole. "So, you're not afraid of anything, then?"

Starfire slowly rose to her feet. "I fear for others, but fearing for myself is selfish."

Nightwing threw his coat to the coffee table and sat in the large reading chair, staring at nothing. "Wonderful philosophy. It suits you." He continued to stare at nothing, his eyes still hidden behind the glass.

"Does your conscience not bother you?"

Nightwing's head snapped over to the alien, who had seated herself across the room from him, against the wall. He almost chuckled. "Do you really think an assassin has a conscience? A killer's conscience has to die before they can do their work effectively."

"That did not answer my inquiry. Are you or are you not plagued by guilt?"

The stoic man stared at the ceiling. "What does it matter? I will continue to kill as long as there are people standing in the way of our cause."

Starfire shifted her legs under her. "So, you would lose yourself in the blood of countless lives that you have stolen, all for what you believe is right." She bit her lip and brushed some red hair behind her ear. "That does not bother you?"

Nightwing pointed at the bedroom. "Go to sleep."

Starfire glared at him before getting to her feet and walking silently to the bedroom. Pausing in the doorway, she turned hesitantly. "Do you not wish to sleep in the bed?"

Nightwing jolted. "I've never used that bed and I don't intend to start now."

The young alien stared at him oddly for a moment before disappearing into the bedroom and locking the door. Nightwing rose from the chair, picked up the bladed pole, and listened until the bed sheets stopped rustling from within the bedroom. Then, he lowered himself to the ground beside the door and put the pole on his lap. He relaxed and let his mind slowly cloud over in the foggy mists of sleep.

---

_Dead leaves swirled and twisted in the air as invisible wind whipped his black hair. The dead grass swayed lightly in the frigid breeze, making a ghostly rustling sound. Everything looked lifeless. The dark purple sky was littered with red-tinged clouds, complementing the sickly-yellow sun. He scanned the horizon, instinctively knowing that something was coming. _

_The ground trembled and shook, making small pebbles dance and clatter against each other. The tremor shook him, rattling his bones as something dark and hideous burst from over the curve of the world. It was a storm. Like the ocean's tide, it swept in, accompanied by harsh, moaning sounds. Blood began to fall from the storm, spattering on the ground. On his hair. Into his mouth. The moaning rose in a crescendo, drowning out the sound of the raining, crimson liquid. The anguish and pain tore at him, ripping at his soul. Screaming joined the tortured moaning and he realized it was his own voice. _

_Sobbing, he clutched his arms, as if trying to warm himself. The moaning became individual screams, all crying the same accusations. "Who are you…who are you to take us? Who are you to rip us from the world? Who are you to fling us into the abyss?"_

_The accusations yanked at him, struck him. Broke him. "Who are you to judge us, to take our lives? Who gave you authority?"_

_He fell to his knees, yelling, tearing at his face until it bled. "Murder. Killer. Heartless. Blood-stained. Empty shell. Who are you, you who are worse than us, to force death upon us?"_

_He opened his mouth to the sky, letting loose a despairing shriek. The coppery taste of blood covered his tongue and dripped into his throat. It burned, sizzling as it went down._

"_Wretch! May you feel our pain, our suffering, our torment. May it rend you apart and devour you. You are no human. You are a monster. An abomination. You do not deserve to walk the worlds."_

_He continued to scream into the bloody storm._

---

Nightwing jolted awake before the hand could reach his face. He grabbed the wrist before it could strike him, gripped the pole in the other hand, and jabbed it toward the arm's owner.

Starfire squeaked as she found the blade tickling her throat. Nightwing's head turned toward her, breathing raggedly, a feverish sweat glistening on his forehead. Suddenly, he released her and clutched his head, still breathing hard.

"Why are you awake?" he whispered suddenly.

Starfire seemed nervous as she looked at the distraught assassin. "Y-you were screaming in your sleep. I th-thought that perhaps I should wake you." She glanced at his hands. They were bleeding from several nicks and shallow scratches. He had probably cut his hand on the bladed pole during his sleep. Nightwing followed her gaze and quickly hid his hands. He glanced at the holo-screen's screen-saver. Nearly three.

"Get back to sleep." His voice was a whisper, an angry hiss. "Now."

"But what of your hands?" Starfire reached for him.

Nightwing seemed startled. "Why do you care? I'm your kidnapper."

The alien humphed and put her hands on her hips. "You are a fellow sentient being with feelings and emotions. Simply because you wish me ill does not mean I wish you ill. You deserve to be treated for wounds."

Nightwing suddenly laughed, bitterness and ice tainting his laughter. "I deserve nothing. Not pity, not sorrow, not joy. I especially do not deserve compassion or good health."

Starfire unexpectedly grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands out into the open. Hoisting him to his feet forcefully, she nearly dragged him to the kitchen counter. Practically throwing him into a chair, she yanked a roll of metallic-like bandages out from a drawer. Wrapping the material swiftly around his hands, she stepped back and surveyed her work proudly. The gauze-like metal sparked once as the heat from Nightwing's hands activated it. Within a matter of seconds, it began to hum, mending the skin.

"How did you know these were in the drawer?"

"I-I went searching for a spare key you may have hidden. The drawers were the first things I examined."

Nightwing tore off the bandages as soon as he felt it was done. Then, he grabbed Starfire's shoulders and shoved her towards the bedroom. "Go back to bed. Just be thankful I don't hide anything of importance in here."

Starfire stumbled forward, glanced at him for a moment, and closed the door behind her. The lock slid into place behind her. Nightwing glanced at his hand, now free of cuts.

"Sentimental, idealistic fool." He flexed his fingers before gripping them together. The wounds reopened slightly, leaking blood.

* * *

Oooh, angst. I don't do this all that much. More on the rest of the people in next chapter. 

-Razvanor


	4. Hard Shell

**Chapter 4**

The lower levels. A miserable hovel for the low-lives, the addicted, and the down-on-their-luck. The City didn't care much to clean or maintain the lower levels. Litter was strewn about, piles of compost and refuse, mountains of rusted junk. The sun barely reached down into the lowly pit of human habitation, casting everything in a twilight haze. Stores that barely survived stood dejected and collapsing by the only roads in the city that actually touched the ground. Bars seemed to be the only lively areas.

Beast Boy groaned as the humid, rank air slapped his face like a moldy, wet rag. Everyone else bore it in silence. "Why'd we have to come here, guys? This place is freakin' nasty."

"Exactly," Jinx said pointing a finger at the changeling and winking. "I'd expect a kidnapper to come here because it's harder to find people around here." She glanced around slowly, her perpetual smile wavering slightly. "I would know," she whispered.

Sneak slowly floated around, glancing at piles of garbage. "Where we start, guys? There be los'a pwaces ta hide here."

Cyborg scratched his nose, trying to understand the rapid baby talk. "Why'd Davidson stick us with a baby fox that flies?"

"I notta baby!" Cyborg nearly stumbled backwards as Sneak suddenly appeared in front of him. The little black eyes seemed to have a strange red tint to them. "I'ma full gwowed Vulpinite. YOU NO CALL ME BABY!"

Cyborg held his hands up and stepped back. Smiling nervously, he nodded. "Fine, fine." Sneak gave a swift nod before suddenly grinning as wide as he could. Something suddenly distracted him and he hovered off.

Raven stared after the little fox. "He has a good point. Where do we start looking?" Her blue eyes flickered over each of her teammates.

Cyborg shrugged. "Let's try the bars. I bet there's someone in this City who's heard of a guy with a giant sword or something."

Beast Boy's eyes bugged. "Dude, I'm not legal though."

Jinx giggled. Raven rolled her eyes. Cyborg slapped him on the head. "We ain't drinking, you moron. Besides, I'm sure whatever they serve down here would poison us."

Sneak suddenly came back from wherever he had been. "Me find bar. Lo'sa peoples der, drinking stuff." He flew off down the street, motioning with his tail for the group to join him. Exchanging glances, the teens swiftly caught up to the mini-fox.

---

Cyborg slowly pushed the bar's door open. The first thing he noticed was the pounding music on a small, ancient jukebox. The gigantic, round CDs inside jumped and sputtered every once in a while, grating on the android's nerves. Slowly, the customers of the bar realized he was there, and looked up at him in confusion. Cyborg ushered the rest of the teens inside and shut the door. Unsettling, bloodshot eyes stared at them, eyeing them like slabs of meat. Especially the girls.

"What are you Metas doin' off your government leashes?" One man stood up shakily in front of Cyborg, his breath reeking of liquor. His eyes flickered over all of them, giving them all a once over. "Metas aren't welcome here."

"Vin, sit down ya old drunk," a balding man called from behind the bar. "If'n they gots money, they're welcome." He turned toward the group. "An' what can I do fer ya folks. I kinda doubt you're allowed to drink." He smiled, his yellow teeth glinting dully in the dimly light atmosphere. "But I won't tell if you won't. Hahaha."

Raven stepped forward, her hood over her face. "We've come for information, if you have any."

The man smiled again. "Maybe I do, girly." He began to pour himself some questionable liquid into a cup. "May wanna be a bit more specific, though." He brought the glass to his mouth, gulping.

"We're looking for a friend who has been kidnapped." She glanced at Cyborg, who motioned her to go on. "Do you know about anyone who kills people with giant blades of some type?"

The bartender sputtered in the middle of a gulp. All eyes in the bar shot towards them, a look of horror on each of their faces. Raven suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

Wiping his mouth nervously, he chuckled half-heartedly. "Ehehe, giant blades, ya say? I'm 'fraid I've n-never heard of such a person. An' e-even if I did, I doubt you'd find 'im."

Raven sighed impatiently and placed a few uni-credits on the table. The bartender completely disregarded the money, still looking nervous. He shook his head. "I-I can't tell ya anythin'." He swept the money back towards the dark girl. "My life is more 'portant than a few credits."

Klick-klick-clack. Cyborg's arm suddenly re-assembled into a cannon. "I'm getting impatient, man. Tell us what you know or I'll blast your head off." He growled low.

A black aura sprang from Raven's cloak, her eyes glowing a dull gray. Obsidianspheres grabbed the man's wrists and lifted him into the air. "I suggest you do what Cyborg says. I'm far more dangerous than he is."

A dark spot stained the bartender's pants. Whimpering, he nodded frantically. "I-I've only heard stories, I swears. Dere's dis guy with a bladed pole or something. H-he's a shadow assassin usually. I don't k-know who he works fer. His name is Night-something. Nightwing! Dat's it. P-please don't hu-hurt me." His body shook with sobs.

Raven dropped him onto the ground. "Thank you for your cooperation."

The man merely whimpered as the Meta-humans left the bar.

---

Nightwing started awake, blinking into the dim light of the apartment. He glanced over to the holo-screen. Nearly six. The exact time he wanted to wake up. Slowly standing up from the floor where he had fallen asleep cross-legged, he cracked his knuckles. Then his neck. Listening carefully, he heard no commotion from within his hostage's room.

He walked into the kitchen.

If Nightwing had not been wide-awake, he would have been startled to find Starfire already there, slowly sipping something from a cup and staring out the square, barred window. He glanced at the table, where a plate of food was all ready set for him.

Starfire spun around, miraculously keeping all the liquid inside her mug. Smiling brightly, she motioned toward the table. "I have prepared breakfast for you. I do hope it is satisfactory."

Glancing at the food suspiciously, he ignored it and looked through the refrigerator for a bagel. Finding one, he bit into it, staring emotionlessly at the wall in front of him. Starfire didn't seem surprised at the rejection of the food and swiftly disposed of it. Still grinning, she continued staring out the window, mug in hand.

"How long have you been awake?" The question was without feeling.

"Oh, I believe a quarter of an hour before you awoke. I have made use of your cooking utensils. I hope you do not mind."

Nightwing glanced at a few pots and pans drip drying in the sink. He glanced back at a still smiling Starfire. "For someone who's been kidnapped and threatened with death, you seem awfully happy. I'm also surprised you didn't try and escape while I slept."

Starfire waved a hand nonchalantly. "I have resigned myself to my fate. While I do value my freedom, I have realized that there is no way out. So, in light of this, I have assigned myself to another duty."

Nightwing smirked, but still, it lacked feeling. "What would that be?"

The alien grinned and ignored the question completely. "How many summers old are you? You seem to be as old as I."

"Seventeen." Again, no emotion.

Starfire gasped unhappily. "I suspected that you were, but I was so hoping that you were much older. Youths such as ourselves should never have to experience such things as you have." Starfire stared into her mug, watching her murky reflection in the strange liquid. "I am truly sorry for you."

"I don't need your pity," Nightwing said between clenched teeth. He relaxed. "I chose to do this. It was always my choice."

"So, then, you enjoy slaughtering your fellow man."

"Maybe I do, it is not your concern." He glanced at the window, then at the table. "The sooner you're out of my hair, the sooner you'll forget your little obsessions with my life."

Starfire shrugged and stood up. "Well, I am in need of bathing. Unless, of course, you have a rule against it."

He glowered at her and pointed to the bathroom. She merely smiled, walked toward the bathroom…and promptly tripped over a permanent bump in the floor. Nightwing didn't even bother looking at her. Seemingly unperturbed, she hopped up and soon the shower water could be heard.

Nightwing sighed once, glanced at the bump in the floor, and muttered something about clumsy aliens. Suddenly, his hand went to his ear as his skull's cybernetic chip chimed softly, indicating a call. He sub-vocalized the command to open the line.

"Yes, Wa…Knight, what is it?"

The voice on the other end chuckled a little. "Good, you remembered to use my alias for once. You never know who might be hacking around the phone signals."

"Is it an assignment?"

"Blunt and to the point, as always." Another chuckle. "No, it's not another assignment. I'm giving you the day off. All you have to do today is come to the normal meeting area. Bring the girl and make sure she doesn't get away."

"Does this mean you'll be taking her off my hands?"

"No, she will continue to stay with you."

Nightwing sighed. "What's the point of all this? She's an incessant pest that buzzes around my head, trying to find a way in."

"She wants to know about you?" Knight seemed startled.

Nightwing grunted in acknowledgement. "Exactly."

Nightwing could almost see Wayne shrug on the other end. "It's up to you what you want to reveal. She won't be leaving our custody unless she dies. Just bring her to the meeting. And remember, you may kill herfor any attempts she might try at escape. It is far better for her to die than for the Slade faction to use her. And I'm talking both ends of the spectrum. For her and for us." A pause, as if allowing the information to sink in. "Be there at seven tonight. Don't be late."

The line disconnected with another soft chime and a female voice thanking Nightwing for using their company. He glanced over at the holo-screen. Six fifteen A.M. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Snore. Snrk-wha…Ahem. Yes, sorry, boring chapter, but it's more of a transition chapter than anything. Action in the next chapter for sure (Er, I think). 

-Razvanor


	5. Proposal

**Chapter 5**

Deep in the shadows of the City, a man walked slowly yet resolutely. The damp stone walls glistened from some unknown liquid in the dreary hallway. Phosphorous lights glowed dimly, throwing everything in a soggy haze. Thick metal doors were set into the walls, where emaciated groans echoed in a symphony of agony. The brown and black mask the man wore did not even turn to look at the doors. His one eye stared straight forward, unwavering from a single metal door stood alone. The name 'Tara Markov' embossed on the metal. He waited patiently for the men in the control room to open the door for him.

Swish!

A girl with long blonde hair stared up at her visitor. She chuckled humorlessly. Lifting a chained hand, she rattled the metal a little. "I don't suppose you're here to let me out of these things, hmm?" Her locks clung to her skin, matting her face with strands of gold. A defiant luster shone in her eyes.

The masked man lowered slowly to face the Tara at eye-level. "Insolence is not tolerated, Terra." He paused, his one eye flicking over her face, as if searching for something.

Tara felt like spitting at him. "My name is Tara. Repeat after me. Tara, Taarraa." A fist suddenly found her stomach, driving the air out of her. She wheezed painfully, spots of spittle flecking her lips.

"Why must you continue to defy me, Terra? You and I can do so much together. We could rule your world." He paused. "We could find your brother."

"Don't you dare talk about Bryon, you good-for-nothin', low-life, hypocrite," she hissed, seemingly recovered from the blow. Unfortunately, she found her head snapping to the side as he backhanded her. She winced, but said nothing.

"I am not here to trade insults. I am here to procure your services. Will you do it willingly?" He fingered a small button in a hidden panel of his suit. "Or will I have to use force?"

Tara burst out laughing. "You know the answer to that one."

The man sighed. "I see. Well, honestly, I just came down to see if you had a change of heart. But, you still defy me." He closed the hidden panel. "I will keep you fresh for now. I foresee a sudden need of your powers in the near future. Until then, you will live off of bread and water. Perhaps a little hunger will weaken your resolve, hmm?"

The blonde simply hissed in anger and frustration. The figure gave her a bemused look before leaving. The door left the poor girl in the cold emptiness of the dungeon.

-

Nightwing carefully piloted the black air car, swiftly ducking in and out of streams of screaming traffic. Starfire sat in the passenger seat, humming to herself and looking out the window. The energy chain connecting her to Nighthawk hummed a little louder as it slid about on the armrest between them. She barely stole a glance at the serious man beside her, as if to confirm he was still there. Starfire swiftly turned around, thinking that he had not seen her. He had.

"What are you looking at?"

"Oh, I was simply wondering if you were still in the vehicle. You are so silent; I cannot even hear your breathing." She grinned pleasantly, showing her white teeth. "Is there a problem?"

Nightwing gritted his teeth, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. She had spent the entire day pestering him with questions about his life, and his patience was growing thin. "No, none."

She looked out the window for a moment, then back at Nightwing. "So…" she began.

Suddenly, Nightwing accelerated and threw the steering wheel left, throwing the car in a ninety degree angle violently. He nearly rocketed down the narrow air lane, swerving with almost suicidal movements. Starfire shut her mouth and stared wide eyed at the other cars seemed to flash by her window. Her hand gripped tightly to whatever handle she could find.

"Eeep," she squealed, as one particularly close call was avoided. "M-must we go so fast."

Nightwing smirked in an almost amused manner. "Yes. I'd drive to the Shattered Moon to keep your mouth shut." He jerked the steering wheel again and barely cleared the top of a semi.

Starfire slapped her hand over her eyes suddenly, completely forgetting the fact that Nightwing had handcuffed them together. His hand was torn from the steering wheel, throwing the car into a swift barrel-roll. Yanking his hand back, he muttered angrily under his breath before righting the car. He turned to her, mouth twisted angrily. "Are you insane?"

Suddenly, a blaring siren, coupled by flashing strobes of red and blue light went off behind them. A voice came on over the car's speaker system. "Stop your reckless driving and pull over. I repeat, sto-" Nightwing switched off his speakers, clenching his teeth. He began to pull over when he suddenly glanced at Starfire, and groaned.

"What is it?" Starfire's eyes widened.

"The police know about you. If they see you, they'll return you to the Base." His foot shifted over the accelerator. "Can't have that, can we?"

The car twisted violently as he spun the wheel, throwing Starfire against the door. Nightwing spared a glance at the squad car drifting beside him, a clumsy officer trying to aim an I.D. scanner at them. Nightwing glared and pulled into a steep nose-dive. He flipped a button, cloaking his signal and all readings a thermal scan would notice. Starfire whimpered, clinging even tighter to the armrests. Still in a dive, they zoomed through and around lanes of traffic, very nearly clipping several rearview mirrors off of several commuters. "All right, this is gonna get a bit bumpy."

Starfire stared in horror as the squad cars behind them continued to tail them, flashing their lights. The lowest level road, completely desolate of cars, filled the windshield. Nightwing grunted and heaved the steering wheel downwards, forcing the car to run parallel to the ground. He flipped another switch, darkening the windows.

Ptwing!

The asphalt below them sparked as a bullet ricocheted off of it. Glancing into the rearview mirror, Nightwing saw men aiming guns at them. He turned a corner sharply, allowing several bullets to stream behind them harmlessly. Smirking triumphantly, he suddenly frowned at the barricade of squad cars ahead of him. They hovered over and beside each other, filling the space between the two buildings on either side of the road. Still frowning angrily, he threw the steering wheel down, forcing the car into a steep vertical rise. Squad cars flashed 'below' them as they head back up to the higher levels. They found themselves once again trying to avoid the traffic.

Glancing back, Nightwing sighed and slowed the car. They had shaken the pursuers. He glanced at the map in the car's computer before correcting their course. He looked at Starfire. She was still gripping the armrests, her emerald eyes wide in horror. The blood had drained from her face, leaving her a light amber color. Slowly turning to Nightwing, the look of horror still firmly planted on her face, she stared at him disbelievingly. He almost laughed…almost.

-

Nightwing slowly parked the car into an empty cell of the garage. He tugged on the handcuffs, forcing Starfire to crawl over the armrests, over the drivers seat, and out his door. She still looked a little pale, but her usual amber was slowly making its way back to her face. Not sparing her a glance, Nightwing tugged her towards the elevators. As they slowly ascended to as certain floor, he tapped his foot impatiently.

"That was…most harrowing. Could we kindly not engage in such behavior again?"

"I thought I got you to shut up," he grumbled more to himself than to Starfire.

She smiled sweetly. "I believe under that hard shell, you are soft and tender-hearted. Am I not right?"

He didn't look at her. "No." He grunted,his face holding his icy countenance. He leaned against the elevator's wall and stared at his black shoes. Starfire watched him closely before sighing inwardly. The elevator gave a soft chime as their desired floor.

The doors opened to an elegant, if not extravagant, restaurant. Soft, red carpet covered the floors, free of stains and spilled food. Ornately dressed waitresses scurried back and forth, bringing the customers their meals as they sat at large wooden tables in plush chairs. The walls were covered in gold-leaf decorations of flowers and leaves on a blood red background. The ceiling was painted in a rendition of Michelangelo's work of the Sistine Chapel of old Earth. Elaborate crystal chandeliers sparkled and threw rainbows of prism perfection on the walls. It was a scene of sophisticated, yet restrained, beauty. A waiter stood at a small podium, welcoming people in and assigning them seats. He eyed the two newcomers carefully, before standing straighter.

"I'm afraid that you are not properly dressed for this restaurant." He pointed a long, arrogant nose at them and sniffed in distaste. "I shall have to ask you to leave."

Nightwing stepped up to the man deliberately slow. "We have a 'reservation', sir. I should be under Bruce Wayne's name." He tapped the sheet where the names were listed.

The arrogant host sniffed again. "Sir, I do believe that I just stated that your attire is not suitable. Therefore, I suggest that you take your miserable carcass and escort yourself out the…" The man trailed off as he noticed a brunette waitress waving frantically from his left. Her eyes were open repressed terror. The waiter held up a long, bony finger. "Just a moment."

Starfire watched as he swiftly walked over to the waitress and stood tall before her as if demanding an explanation for her interruption. The frantic waitress whispered something, eyeing Nightwing carefully. The arrogant host's proud shoulders slowly sank and his entire body trembled. Slowly, shakily, he made his way back to the patiently waiting Nightwing. Gone was his snobbish frown, replaced by a poor, quivering excuse of a smile.

"I'm a-afraid I have m-made a mistake, Sir. I shall e-escort you to Mr. Wayne's private dining room." He turned stiffly around and showed them a door to the side. Still smiling nervously, he opened the door and let them through. Wayne was sitting at a small table. Beside him, a hulking mountain of a man sat, his eyes traveling up and down Starfire's sleek figure hungrily. An enormous cannon had been attached to his arm surgically, and a powerful looking sniping gun was strapped to his back.

Wayne cleared his throat and motioned for the two newcomers to sit down. Glancing swiftly to Nightwing's wrist, he noticed the handcuffed arm that had been hidden in his trench coat before entering the restaurant. Leaning back, he let his eyes wander around the ceiling for a few moments. No one said anything, waiting for him to speak.

"Miss Koriand'r," he started slowly, still staring at the wall. His hand fiddled with a small object. "There once was an evil king, who cheated and stole from many people. He treated his subjects poorly and was very angry all the time." Starfire stared at him, her eyebrow raised. "His people suffered horribly under his oppressive rule, while he enjoyed many luxuries. But…" Wayne's eyes fell on Starfire. "There was a small group of people who were very brave. They decided to do what was right for the commoners and workers. They wanted to overthrow the king's evil regime." He paused. Nightwing stared straight ahead. The other man rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath. Wayne continued. "This group of people realized that, unfortunately, they would have to kill a great man people who sided with the king. So, in secret, they slowly began to kill the king's corrupt advisors and friends, clearing the field so that they may one day strike at the king unopposed." He slowly placed the object he had been playing with on the table. It was a small black knight chess piece, carved from onyx. It glimmered in the florescent light. "What do you think of my story?"

Starfire picked up the chess piece, slowly turning it in her hands. "Was there no way to avoid the slaughtering?"

Wayne leaned back in his chair. "None that they could find." Starfire simply stared at the chunk of onyx before replacing it on the table. Wayne picked it up, examining it carefully. "I won't beat around the bush. We want you to be an assassin. Since your powers revolve around energy, you are virtually untraceable. This is very hard for a human to be, especially in this day and age."

"Y-you wish for me to be a killer of men?" She looked horrified. She swiftly glanced at Nightwing, who, to her surprise, seemed tense, almost angry. Wayne looked at her levelly, awaiting an answer. Starfire took a deep breath. "N-no, I will not."

Wayne nodded understandingly. "I know you won't. However, you will continue to stay in our custody. For safety matters, Nightwing here will train you in melee combat techniques."

Nightwing gripped his pole hard. "Bruce…" he said menacingly.

Wayne glared at him. "I expect her to be able to take care of herself if there should be a need. Do you understand?"

Nightwing relaxed his death grip. "Yes, sir."

The large man suddenly spoke, a touch of Irish brogue lacing his speech. "Ach, now there's gonna be some fun in the 'partments, ey?" He grinned wickedly.

Nightwing's glass band turned toward the man. "You are to stay away from her, Will. She is my charge and I will not have you trying to get at her."

Will leaned back. "Weel, aren't yoo a spoil sport. I'll abide only 'cause I'm deathly afraid of ya."

Wayne thumbed the chess piece. "Ah, yes, William is to board in your apartment building. He'll be there for protection in case you can't handle something." He leaned into his chair and tapped his lips with his finger. "Also, there were some teenagers asking around for you in the lower levels. Friends of yours, Miss Koriand'r?"

Starfire's head jerked up. "My friends? But they are at the Base."

Bruce merely flicked some photos across the desk. Starfire slowly reached over and glanced through them. In brilliant color, the unmistakable figures of Beast Boy, Cyborg, and Raven stood in a bar alongside Jinx and a small fox-like creature. She gasped lightly. "But what does this imply?"

Wayne smirked. "It 'implies' that you keep them off of our backs. Avoid them in any way possible. And trust me, it's for their safety, not ours. Now, all of you leave all ready. My food will be arriving any second now."

Nightwing stood without a word, followed by a lumbering Will. Starfire was stood up last, as if something were weighing her down. The ride home was silent, as if someone had died. Nightwing opened the apartment door almost wishing she had said something inane or irrelevant. She hadn't. They both fell into opposite easy chairs, neither looking at the other.

"I do not want to kill." The statement was bland, lacking of Starfire's usually perkiness. "I do not want to be stained."

Nightwing slowly looked at her. "I'd rather you not kill either."

Starfire gazed back at him sadly. "Why should you bother yourself with my innocence?"

Nightwing clenched his jaw at that. "Because I don't want the worlds to deal with another me. Because innocence is one of the things I am trying to protect." He fingered his metal staff. "What sort of person would I be then, if I helped with the very thing I'm trying to avoid."

Starfire didn't answer.

* * *

Well, I brought in Terra, gave you some kinda car action, and added some complications. Yay? 

Will is just a big guy that I need to use later. He's not really all that important right now. All you need to know is that he's the third best assassin Bruce Wayne employs, Nightwing being the first best. Who's second? Meh, not gonna tell ya, but you'll be surprised (well, if you read the comic. I doubt the rest of you will have any idea.)

The reason it was so late? Well, I've been reading Post's "These Black Eyes" and "The legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time". That took large hunks out of me. Incredibly large hunks. And besides that, I've been trying to force some more chapters for my RK fics. So, ya'll understand, right?

Training begins in the next chapter. Oooh, it's gonna be fun.

-Razvanor


	6. Training

**Chapter 6**

"Uhh," Beast Boy sighed, toying with the straw in his soda. "We've got nothing after two solid days of looking. I'm starting to get depressed, guys."

Jinx giggled from across the restaurant table, looking up from a bowl of stew. "Our little clown? Depressed? Never thought I'd see the day." She chuckled again, her cat eyes closing gleefully.

Beast Boy glared at her. "Ya know, your laughing just rubs me the wrong way."

Cyborg stopped momentarily from ravaging his foot long sub. "Yeah, and your face rubs _me_ the wrong way." He grinned and bit down on his sandwich before squinting thoughtfully as he chewed. "Wait," he mumbled around a bit of meat, "that didn't sound right."

Raven fingered her coffee as her eyes scanned the pages of her book. "Will you idiots shut up for a bit? Pip is reassessing his life." She tapped her book. "_Great Expectations_ is to be read in depth. I need quiet."

"No, Raven, you need a life beyond books," countered Jinx. "Get your nose out of that heap of paper and talk to us." She pouted, her bottom lip sticking out. "Pwease?"

Sneak sat suspiciously close to Jinx's soup. "Books be goods fa ya. I weed lo'sa books back home. Leave Rae-Rae awone." He shoved his snout into the soup and began to lap it up with his pink tongue. "And 'sides, no fight'n. We needs ta get awong." He felt a pair of feminine fingers pinch the back of his neck and lift him away from the bowl to cat-eye level. The small Vulpinite tried a nervous chuckle before deftly squirming out of her grip and perching himself on Cyborg's broad shoulder.

The android sighed and glanced out the window to fourth level city street. A black car suddenly zoomed down through the traffic and to the lower levels. It was closely followed by a large group of squad cars. "We don't know anyone outside the Base and there's no easy way to get information. We haven't seen hide nor hair of our elusive pole-guy and Starfire may be in danger. It's like we keep running around in circles." He looked down at his half finished sandwich, but didn't pick it up. "It's practically hopeless. I'm about open for suggestions as I'll ever be."

Sneak glanced up from a bite of Cyborg's sandwich. "Maybe da pole-guy 's working fo some big guy. Ya know, guy wit lo'sa money." All eyes turned toward the little fox, questions in their eyes. Sneak shrugged and fluffed his tail. "Da way I see it, da pole-guy is shadow 'sassin, wight? Well, 'e must be very good and it would cost lo'sa gween paper ta use him. Da secuwity sys'em at da Base did not detect him for a while, wight? Top 'a da line, I'd say."

The teens all stared at the little fox in open amazement. Beast Boy scratched at his green hair. "He's gotta point, guys. Some big-wig on the seventh level must be using him to do their dirty work." His ears drooped. "But there're a lot a rich guys up there. We can't just go asking people if they hire assassins."

Raven shut her book and folded her arms over her chest. "I just thought of something. Starfire can use some sort of energy that she can throw, right." All heads nodded slowly. "Couldn't we track the energy her body emits? I'm sure her energy signature is far higher than a human's."

Cyborg sighed and shut his organic eye. "But Rae, it would take forever to scan the entire City. She might not even be in the City, for all we know. She could have been taken to the countryside or something."

"Whatever it takes," Raven retorted. "Starfire is my friend just as much as she is yours. If it takes all of our lives, we have to find her. Now, who's willing?"

Jinx scratched her pink tufts of hair. "I'm in. I always liked Starfire."

Beast Boy's hand shot up. "Most definitely."

Cyborg grinned. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

Sneak glanced around before raising a paw. "I hewp fwiends find fwiends." His little mouth smiled at the group as he polished off the last of Cyborg's sandwich. "We gonna stick tagefer." Wiping his whiskers of a few spare crumbs, the Vulpinite shrugged. "So, how we scan?"

The teens looked at each other and groaned.

-

Thump!

Starfire fell to the ground, holding the side of her head. Moaning softly, she clambered to her feet and faced her opponent. Nightwing clenched his jaw, keeping his lips in a tight line of frustration. "No no no! You have to block, not just stand there like a fool. Let's try this again. Throw some passion into this." He lunged, his padded fists extending in front of him. The dark man slammed a fist into her stomach a spit second before he grabbed her wrists and threw her into the floor.

Starfire whimpered into the gym mat. "I cannot. I do not wish to injure you and I do not wish to train."

Nightwing scowled, crouched down, and grabbed a fistful of red hair. Tilting Starfire's head back, he scowled at her from behind his glass band. "You…will…train." He shook her head a bit. Starfire cried out a bit. "You will learn how to defend yourself at the very least. I will not have you dying when we're on a job."

Starfire gripped his wrist and applied pressure. Nightwing was forced to release her hair. She stood up and glared down at him. "I will most assuredly not accompany you on your gruesome tasks."

Nightwing sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Look, I don't need you to kill anyone. If all goes well, we may never have to use you." Starfire continued to glare at him and he continued. "Fine, I'll make you a deal. You come along with me and pretend to do something useful. Then, I'll take care of whoever needs to die. But you need to be able to fight for yourself."

Starfire's expression softened. "Very well."

Nightwing stood up slowly, his face expressionless. Falling into stance again, he nodded his head. "All right, you attack me and we'll see what happens."

Starfire bit her lip as her eyes began to glow a powerful green. With a cry of exertion, she threw herself at Nightwing. The dark man met her head on with his own attack. They met in the center of the mat, each throwing a flurry of punches. Starfire's face creased in frustration as not one of her attacks landed. Nightwing dodged and blocked blows as nimbly as he placed them. He was as elusive as smoke. Starfire swung her leg up to trip him but found her leg caught in Nightwing's tight grip. He twisted her leg, causing her to spin roughly in the air before she came down on the mat, her speck eyebrows knit in pain. She stood up slowly and tried a small smile. "Well, that was a rather fascinating maneuver."

Nightwing didn't respond, and instead motioned her to come at him again. She obliged, this time far more warily. They circled each other, padded fists raised. Starfire tried to mimic the slow, weaving walk that Nightwing exhibited. Sidestepping, she nearly tripped on her own feet. The alien growled low in her throat, as if angry at herself, before she once again flung herself toward Nightwing. He didn't even flinch as Starfire barreled down toward him, eyes ablaze. Neatly sidestepping, he allowed her to pass partially before gripping her wrists, spinning her in mid-air, and releasing her toward the mat. She groaned before sitting up with her legs crossed. "You are far too powerful."

Nightwing sighed softly, letting his guard down. "No, I'm not. You rely on brute strength while I use agility and a simple application of physics. You won't always win solely on-" He was cut off as an amber body slammed into his without warning and pushed him down into the mat. The assassin looked up at a grinning Starfire as she pressed an arm into his throat.

"And you shall not always be victorious through martial tactics. There is something to be said about strategies." She grinned wider as she pressed her knee a little deeper into his stomach. Nightwing didn't flinch as he hissed angrily through his teeth. Without warning, he threw her off of his prone body, and reversed the hold. Pinning her hands to her sides, he smirked down at her, their noses nearly touching. Starfire gasped before blushing furiously. Nightwing looked at her quizzically before releasing her. "What?"

"N-Nothing," stammered the flustered alien as she rose to her feet, cheeks still rosy. "P-Perhaps we sh-should adjourn back to at the apartment. I am quite tired."

-

The apartment, however, was full when they returned. People walked in and out of the open door, laughing and flirting with each other. Suspicious liquid lay on the table, people grabbing a bottle or two before disappearing into the massive crowd that had gathered in Nightwing's cramped home. Starfire looked around, uncertainty plainly displayed on her features. "DID YOU INVITE ALL THESE PEOPLE?" she shouted over the pounding music. Nightwing, spotting someone in the crowd, gritted his teeth and stepped forward. Everyone turned and tipped their bottles at him before returning to their conversations or provocative dancing. The assassin ignored them all.

"WILL, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, YOU MORON?" shouted a very irritated Nightwing. Will, the hulking Irish assassin, smiled down at Nightwing's thin form. "JU'S INVITED SOME FRIENDS OVER. YA LOOK LIKE YA COOD USE SUM COMPANY."

Nightwing pointed toward the door meaningfully. "GET OUT OF MY APARTMENT," he shouted over the pounding beat. "EVERYONE OUT."

Will scowled and turned off the music. Everyone abruptly stopped whatever they were doing and glanced at the furious assassin. They gulped and looked at each other. Muttering softly, they all slowly trickled out of the room, their faces dejected. Will looked sad as well. "Aw, we was havin' such fun. Whydja have ta go an' do that for?"

Nightwing stood in front of the enormous man, his anger ill-concealed. "Get…out." His shoulders shook in rage, his fists clenched tight. "Now," he said slowly, the fury shuddering out of his throat. Will back away, eyes wide, before promptly turning tail and running out the door. Nightwing made furious hissing sounds, his head turning this way and that. Stomping over to the table of bottles, he swept his hand out, knocking them all into a large trash can. His glass band turned toward Starfire, his eyebrows furrowed in anger. "Help me."

Starfire nodded and began to pick up empty bottles. She sniffed one and gagged. "What is this vile smelling liquid?"

"Alcohol," said the assassin slowly, his body still shuddering. "A liquid with depressant qualities. A legal drug, if you will." Nightwing slammed a fist on the table without warning, denting it. He yelled furiously and punched a fist through the wall, leaving a gaping hole revealing the metal underneath. Starfire cowered; afraid he would turn on her. He didn't. "One of the things I owe my current miserable life to," he said before looking at the hole in the wall, the emotionless mask falling back into place. "I'll have to get that fixed. He brushed past a very frightened redhead and slammed the bathroom door. Soon, water could be heard running. Starfire shuddered before bending to pick up another bottle.

-

"Scanning the entire city? My, my that's gonna cost ya." The small, green-suited midget cackled loudly, bouncing off the confined room. Parts and loose ends lay scattered over shelves, bookcases, filing cabinets, the large metal table, and even on the floor. The walls were peeling paint, exposing the horrible wallpaper underneath. A small, dust-tinted window overlooked the lowest section of the city, displaying the piled refuse beyond as if with pride. "How'd you idiots find me anyway?"

Jinx cocked her head at the small teen. "We did a little asking around. Turns out you're the best technical whiz around." She leaned forward, her lips beginning to twitch into an uncharacteristic frown. "So, can you do it? We can pay."

Beast boy nodded. "Yep, lotsa moola for ya if you help us."

The little man crossed his arms and averted his gaze arrogantly. "And why would I help a bunch of meta-human trash? I have better things to do with my time and it don't involve you crud-munchers."

Black tendrils of energy wrapped around his neck and lifted him into the air. Raven scowled. "Do these other tings involve breathing, you little waste of carbon?" The tendrils squeezed lightly. "So, what do you say, Gizmo?"

He gagged slightly before nodding furiously. "Gak, fine, ack, let go."

The empath released him, letting him fall in a crumpled heap to the ground. Gizmo looked up rubbing his neck. "You guys realize how long it would take to scan the entire City? That's over three thousand square miles of urban sprawl. And what are you scanning for anyway?"

Cyborg glared down at the small teen. "An incredibly concentrated source of energy in the upper levels."

Gizmo rubbed his smooth, bald head. "Uh, that could be arranged. But if it's the upper levels, you need to charter a plane because you'll have to scan from the air."

Raven nodded. "Flight is not a problem, right Beast Boy?"

Beast Boy looked up from the back of the ground, his finger shoved up his nose. He gasped before yanking his finger out. "Uh, yeah, sure."

Gizmo made a disgusted face. "I'm not shaking his hand." The group nodded slowly in agreement. Cyborg cleared his throat. "Um, about the scanner…"

The little bald techno-whiz nodded. "Right. I need to build it though. Might take a while." He flipped his goggles down over his head. "You know us tech people, very meticulous in our work." He grinned and pulled out a gas torch from out of nowhere. "Shall we begin?"

* * *

Yay for Gizmo. Gotta love the little rat. Stick around for the next chapter.

Leave a tip for a poor author and give him a good review. I live off of good reviews. Don't let me starve.

Razvanor


	7. The worlds are red

**Chapter 7**

It was raining. Cold, driving rain. Clouds wept with all their might down on the City, wetting everything, even the lower levels. Thunder and chain lighting roared and ripped through the sky, shaking the buildings that brushed the storm cloud underbellies. Nightwing stood emotionless in the rain, waiting for the light across the street to wink out. He stood precariously on a ledge, his staff held loosely. The dark man shivered slightly, having neglected to bring a weatherproof cloak. His black hair clung to his cheeks and hung over his eyes, partially obscuring his vision. His breath misted in the damp air, denoting the low temperature. Gritting his teeth, the assassin silently willed the light to go out. He waited, and waited, and waited. Finally, the light winked off. Nightwing grunted as he leapt off of the building and went to work.

* * *

The window shattered, scattering glass every which way. A dark man stepped into the room, his glass band hiding his searching eyes. The pole suddenly extended blades as he leapt next to the bed and drove his weapon deep into the covers. There was no tearing of flesh, no cry of pain, not even the resistance of bones. He was instantly on his guard, seeing the taser milliseconds to late. The electric arched through his body and leapt off the tips of his fingers in a maddening, twisting dance. Nightwing shuddered fitfully, his mouth wide in a pained howl. He gripped the taser pressing into his side and crushed it with his other fist before turning on the owner. The bodyguard grinned and pulled out a gun, aiming for a non-lethal shot. The guard's pistol hand fell off before he could blink. Screaming in agony, he clutched at his stump as other guard's came in, pistols raised. Nightwing hissed angrily between his teeth before leaping into the guards' midst. This was not good. 

Another taser found him. This time, he ignored the pain and began to slash through the mass of flesh. Men fell left and right as his bladed pole flashed in the dim light; they clutched missing limbs or simply breathed their last breath of mortal air. Soon, they all lay on the ground. Nightwing checked each one, making sure they were dead, before running into the hall to find his target.

* * *

The 'target' was a skinny, middle-aged bald man, who was currently cowering in the lowest level of his home, flanked by his top bodyguards. His dull grey eyes glanced this way and that at every little sound. "Remember, aim to kill. I doubt those idiots upstairs managed to crawl away alive." The men nodded, their guns trained on the only door, triggers half-pressed. 

Footsteps. The guards instinctively clutched their weapons tighter as the sound of resolute footsteps echoed in the hall outside the door. Then silence. Silence. A creaking sound. The doorknob was slowly turning. Then, the door burst open suddenly. All the men began to shoot blindly at the door, hoping against hope their aim would be true. But, there was no one there. They were shooting at nothing. They glanced at each other, confusion clouding their faces. They lowered their weapons slightly, trying to see around the haze their guns had formed.

A pole suddenly pierced through the haze and skewered the skinny man through the throat. He gurgled and fell forward, his body propped up at a strange angle. All eyes turned towards him, failing to notice the shadow darting over the stairs and yanking a gun out of a guard's hands. Three of the hired men died instantly, a clean shot to the head. The pole suddenly vanished from the dead business man's neck and returned to the assassin's hand, his blue eye bared to the world. His face was cold, emotionless. "No witnesses," was all he said before leaping onto the men.

Nightwing flipped gracefully through the air and stabbed through two men before carefully aiming his stolen gun and disposing of another four. He didn't notice the guard behind him. A bullet grazed his leg, forcing a grunt of pain from the stolid man. He turned and killed the man before running straight into another taser. Sparks danced before Nightwing drove his pole through the guard's chest. The bodyguards began to shoot in earnest, aiming at point blanc. Another bullet managed to find its way into Nightwing's arm. The assassin grunted and continued to kill. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Nightwing stumbled out of the building, leaking blood everywhere. He couldn't care less. Wayne would dispatch a crew to get rid of all the evidence soon. Exhaustion was creeping up on him and the loss of blood and electric had taken their toll on him. The rain was still pouring down hard as he slumped against an alleyway several blocks down. He glanced around with naked eyes, his heart beating erratically. The bloodied assassin slowly slid down the hard wall and to the ground, black creeping at the edge of his eyesight. "Hypothermia," he groaned as he watched his breath fog in the cold night, an odd sense of amusement and nausea overtaking him. He slowly slipped into the embracing dark, slumped against an alley wall.

* * *

Starfire sat on the couch, watching the holo-screen clock. It had been nearly three hours since Nightwing said he would return. As the seconds ticked by, Starfire become more and more worried. 

The doorknob suddenly jiggled. Starfire sat up suddenly, her worry melting away. Flying to the door, she unlocked the large dead bolts and threw the door open. Will blinked at her a bit before grinning. "So, Mister dark 'ssassin is no' back yet?"

The pretty alien watched him uneasily as she shook her head. "No, I am afraid that Nightwing has not returned as of yet."

Will grinned wider. "Well, is that no' a shame." He walked through the door and closed it behind him. His eyes glinted with an unsettling light. "Perhaps we shou' get ta know each other better, eh lass?"

Starfire backed away. "I do not think that Nightwing would appreciate you entering his home. I wish for you to leave."

Will smirked. "No." He grabbed at her, pinning her arms to her sides. "I do no' think I will, lass." He leaned close and smelled her neck. "Ya smell good."

Starfire shuddered fitfully, too afraid to form coherent thought, much less a starbolt. Will lifted a hand and felt her face roughly. "An' soft too. I'm a lucky 'un."

He suddenly spun around, a pale hand on his shoulder. "What do you think your doing, Will?" an icy voice asked slowly, anger dripping from every word. "Let her go before I decide to ignore Bruce's wrath and gut you." Nightwing had his pole extended, its tip poking into Will's hard abdominal muscles. The larger assassin swallowed hard and backed into the door. He threw it open and ran out with whatever was left of his pride.

Starfire sighed before turning to Nightwing. She gasped. The stoic man was deathly pale, his legs barely keeping him up. Diluted blood dripped off of his clothes and stained the carpet, making a steady dripping sound. His clothes had holes in random spots, displaying angry red burn marks. His glass eye-band was cracked and slightly askew. Starfire swiftly flew to him and gave him her shoulder to lean against. Nightwing glanced at her before pushing her away. His brow was furrowed in anger.

She suddenly frowned at him. "It has been three hours. What has happened?"

He seemed a bit surprised. "My target was tipped off. There was an ambush."

Starfire could not keep her angry frown as pity overwhelmed her. She touched his face, feeling his clammy skin. "You need rest."

Nightwing pushed her away. "I need a shower. Leave me alone." He took a step forward and nearly collapsed. He righted himself and walked into the bathroom. However, before he could close the door, he slumped to the floor, darkness grabbing him once more.

Starfire gasped again and dragged him to the couch. Stripping him from the waist up, she threw his wet clothes into the bathroom. Touching his arm wound, the distraught alien noted that the bullet had pierced through. It was not deep and the blood had clotted. She quickly found some linen bandages and wrapped his arm carefully. Noticing his leg wound, she quickly wrapped that as well. Finding some salve in the medicine cabinet, Starfire rubbed his burns slowly.

All the while, Starfire was blushing furiously. She couldn't help but stare at the lean muscles, strong jaw, and relaxed face. Even relaxed it held its emotionless quality. She flipped him over carefully and gasped once more. A large series of scars and indentions on his back's flesh glared up at her. The welted skin was obviously not fresh and they reminded Starfire of something. Standing up, she glanced down at the scars. They were placed in the rough shape of the letter 'R', the skin seemingly cut, torn off, and then regrown. Her hands flew to her mouth at the grotesque mark, her eyes filling with tears.

* * *

Nightwing winced as light streamed through the window and struck his face. He lifted an arm, blocking the light, and suddenly winced at the pain shooting through his limb. The muscle had obviously been torn. He glanced at it and was surprised to see a crude bandage. He was far more surprised to see a red head sleeping peacefully on his stomach. Starfire was stretched out alongside him on the couch, breathing softly. The stoic man's eyes widened behind their glass band. "Starfire," he said. "Wake up." She merely shifted and sighed happily, mumbling something incoherent. Nightwing sighed and began to try and move her head when he suddenly sneezed violently. Starfire woke up immediately. Her head lifted suddenly, her green eyes only half open. "'m awake. Did training commence?" 

Nightwing cleared his throat. Starfire turned sleepily toward him and smiled, blushing furiously. "Starfire? Why are you sleeping on me?" He lifted an eyebrow at her.

She sat up, scratching her head while still blushing. "Um, I assumed you wished for company." She fidgeted, playing with her hair. "I also wished to monitor your condition throughout the night, but I could not stay awake."

Nightwing couldn't bring himself to scowl at the alien, which he severely wished he could do. "I told you to leave me alone, didn't I?" He sneezed again.

Starfire placed her palm over his forehead. "You are still cold." She ignored his frustrated gaze and slowly got off of him.

Nightwing tried to rise as well, but a wave of dizziness made him fall back to stare at the spinning ceiling. He began coughing, hard.

Starfire, unsure of what to do, patted his head softly. Nightwing glared at her fiercely between coughs until she stopped stroking his hair. "Perhaps you are in need of professional help."

Nightwing forced himself to stop coughing and continued to glare angrily. "I do not want your help," he hissed, his voice raw. "Stay away from me." He struggled to stand up, his legs weak. "I told you before that I do not deserve your care or your pity. What part of stay away don't you understand?" He collapsed to his knees as he began coughing again.

Starfire sighed and gripped his arms, pulling him back onto the couch. "And as I have proclaimed before, I do not care. If you will not be reasoned with, I will force you to cooperate." She found a bottle of cough syrup and poured him a spoonful. He eyed it warily as she hovered it in front of his mouth. "Come now; open your mouth so that you may digest this liquid healing agent."

"I will not be treated like a child," he muttered through clenched teeth.

"You act as one. I have no choice." She leapt on him; miraculously keep the cough medicine in the spoon. Gripping his head in one hand, she tried to force the spoon through his teeth.

"Since when does the big bad Nightwing let woman push him around?"

Both heads twisted to look at the newcomer standing in the doorway, in full view of their position. In their moment of silence, Starfire shoved the spoon into Nightwing's gaping mouth, blushed, and scrambled off of his prone body. The dark assassin gagged and hacked as the foul substance slipped down his throat.

The visitor, a small woman with short green hair and a revealing, leather skinsuit, cackled at them almost maniacally. Her face was covered in a sort of white powder, making her seem pale. "Duela Dent, hon," she said, extending a hand toward Starfire, who shook it hesitantly.

Nightwing tried to sit up again, but he fell back as nausea clutched at him again. "What do you want, Duela?"

Duela's loose green gloves fluttered as she performed a small twist on her heel. "I came to ask about last night's mission." She looked at his bare chest and smirked. "But by the looks of your little injuries, I'd say you ran into trouble." She cackled again, a hand on her hip. "Come now, I was sure you were the top assassin."

"They knew, Duela," Nightwing grunted. "I was ambushed. Got the job done though, you can tell Bruce that."

The strange woman cartwheeled to the couch. "And why can't you tell him?" she cooed, letting her finger trail around on his naked torso. "He always loved to hear from his pupil."

Nightwing brushed her finger off. "I can't." He sighed and glanced at Starfire, who was still a little confused. "I'm sick."

Duela cackled. "I guess that means the Joker's Daughter and Will the Cannon have to handle the assassinations." She shrugged. "More pay for me. I always did enjoy killing." She leapt backwards in a somersault and landed besides Starfire. "Well, this Joker has to get going. Bruce'll have to deal with second and third rate killers for now. Ta!" She threw something at the ground, detonating a smoke veil bomb. And, she was gone.

Nightwing made a muffled sound of frustration from where he sat. "Brought down by a virus. If that isn't the single most pathetic thing I have ever heard."

Starfire sighed and floated over to the assassin. "You are not pathetic." She bit her lip. "Merely ill. We all become ill at one point or another." Smiling, she grabbed the cough medicine. "And you have ceased your coughing. Perhaps more of this liquid will speed recovery."

Nightwing watched her unscrew the cap and walk toward him. "Starfire, I don't think that-umph!"

Starfire shoved the bottle's top into the assassin's mouth, tilted his head back, and pinched his nose as incentive to drink all the medicine. Gagging, the poor man had no choice but to guzzle the foul syrup. He almost immediately slumped into a drugged sleep. The alien girl smiled brightly until she was sure he was asleep. Her smile faded, as she gazed down at the assassin. Draping him with a blanket, she sat down across the room, her pained eyes watching the prone figure.

* * *

_The shadows. They abounded in the dark corners of the room, concealing, yet strangely revealing. They flickered and twisted, squirming like live things. He crouched low to the ground, shuddering, his hands gripping at his spiky black hair. The shadows contorted, forming familiar silhouettes against the dark walls. A fist. A knife. A yelling head. They fell and rose, slashing and beating. Dark, shadowy liquid dripped, dripped, dripped in a maddening rhythm. _

_He squeezed his blue eyes shut, fighting the tears of horror. Of rage. Of madness. He shouted at the walls, yelling at the shadows. They ignored him. They mocked him. Echoing screams flitted off the walls and mingled with his own voice. The liquid continued to drip. Then…everything fell silent._

_A laugh jumped here and there, sickeningly happy. "Hahahaha!"_

_He jolted. "No, stay away!" _

_But the shadow pulled from the wall, the black knife still in its grasp, dripping, ever dripping. "If it isn't a little robin." The shadow laughed as the knife plunged forward, cutting into his back. He shrieked in pain, his own crimson blood mingling with another's. Shadowy fingers tore and ripped at him, laughing all the while. _

_Then, the knife was in his hand. Howling, he lunged, screaming like a demon-possessed Thrusting, thrusting, thrusting with frenzied fervor. Madness tainted his pure voice. His howling voice. The room rocked with it. The shadow screamed along with it, contorting grotesquely beneath the furious knife. The tears poured, dripped…stained. _

_And the worlds were red.

* * *

_

Honestly, I only liked the beginning and end of this chapter. I'm not an angsty person or anything, I just feel I'm good with writing angst. I try not to be too graphic. Am I? I wonder sometimes.

This chapter should really be treated as an intermission. It was a bit of fun to have Starfire nanny Nightwing. It is so freakin' hard to keep them Nightwing in character though. You just have no idea. As for Duela Dent, that's not my character, she's DC's. Look her up.

Originally, I was going to do a fluffier chapter, but decided against it. Oh, and in case you didn't catch it, Duela Dent is the second most assassin. For those who did, well, give yourself a pat on the back…somehow.

Razvanor


	8. Behold the Monster

**Chapter 8**

_Chiiirip! Chirrri-ip!_

A lone cricket-like fly creaked and chirped into the night air, its beady eyes flickering this way and that in the large, grassy field. The large mansion near the forest's edge stood silent, a single light on the bottom floor illuminating a small patch of manicured grass. The wind rustled the treetops, interrupting the Shattered Moon's reflected light. There was a slight nip in the still night air, heralding the approaching winter.

A fog of breath. A swift shadow. Quiet. The soft _shwiff_ of grass parting. The blurred outline of black cloth. Silence.

_Chirrripp! Chir-Chiiiirrip!_

A glass eyeband stared out at the large building from their comfortable cocoon of green stalks. The eyeband suddenly slipped off, revealing soulless blue eyes, empty of emotion. The wry figure stood up in the middle of the field, as if suddenly uninterested if anyone saw.

_Chiiirip!_

Without warning, the blue eyes flashed golden. The soft night was suddenly interrupted as the ground began to shake violently, the thin figure watching with brilliant, yellow apathy. An enormous spout of shockingly orange-red suddenly burst from beneath the mansion, eating a hole straight through its middle. A blast of heat flashed outward, ruffling the now-illuminated girl's yellow hair. Apparently satisfied, she turned from the melting inferno and into the wood's darkness.

A brown and black man stared at the soulless assassin as she made her way towards him through the trees. "One less benefactor for the Scaccarium faction. What do you say, dear girl?" Terra said nothing, her blank eyes staring through the dark man. "That's what I thought, my pretty little puppet." He fiddled with a small computer on his right arm, watching as Terra began walking, almost mechanically, forward. "Let's go home, where I can tell you about all you just did." He chuckled lightly to himself, his voice forever smooth.

And somewhere in the dark, the small insect had stopped singing.

* * *

"They took out Max Clyde, Nightwing." Wayne's voice vibrated with barely-controlled anger over the cyber-chip connection. "They found a mini-volcano where his house was. Luckily, the press attributes it to a freak accident of nature."

Nightwing flexed his once injured arm, before beginning pull-ups in the gym. "They finally made a move. Clyde was a big supporter, wasn't he?" He spoke inwardly, not bothering to speak audibly to his chip.

Wayne seemed to calm down a bit. "Yes, he poured millions of dollars into our research departments, special project funds, and other areas. We lost someone very valuable to our practices. I still have no idea how the Slade faction figured out where he lived."

Nightwing grunted softly out loud while pulling his chin over the shiny metal bar for the twentieth time, as he continued to speak to his benefactor. "I'm thinking we have a mole in the system."

Wayne was silent for a moment. "Possibly, but I doubt it. There is something else at work here. I can feel it in my bones."

Nightwing smirked to himself. "You sure it isn't your old age?"

Wayne chuckled. "My doc says I have a life-expectancy of three hundred. I don't think that's it."

Nightwing grunted again. "Lucky you. The way I'm stressing my body, I'll be lucky to live to two hundred." He lifted himself again, mentally counting fifty. "What do you want me to do? I just healed up, so I'm good to go."

"Great. I heard about your red-haired beauty of a nurse as well. I'll bet you enjoyed that."

Nightwing scowled as hard as he could, as if Wayne could see it. "The worst two weeks of my life. She was surprisingly quiet though, besides the constant nagging to drink more medicine. Wonder why?"

"Hmm, sounds like you're getting used to her. Don't forget to send me a wedding invitation. I'll bring you a nice, golden muzzle as a gift." He chuckled, actually being able to hear Nightwing grind his teeth over the connection. "I'll call you when I have a need." The connection terminated, leaving a voice thanking him for the use of their company.

Nightwing counted one hundred as his chin passed the bar again. Dropping to the ground, he grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat off of his face. Staring at the floor for a moment, he scowled and headed for the exit. "Fan-freakin'-tastic," he muttered to no one.

* * *

The dark assassin stepped into the apartment, running a hand over his forming stubble. He'd have to shave. He sighed heavily, letting his breath filter out slowly, as if reluctant to let it go.

Then he heard it. Gentle sobbing. Irregular gasps of air. Shuddering cries. Nightwing threw a glance to the bedroom door, which stood slightly ajar. No light penetrated any further than the doorjamb.

Instinctively, he rose to his feet and padded to the door, leaning in to listen. Nothing but the steady crying. He began to pull away from the door. It wasn't really his business at all. Why should he care if his prisoner was crying?

And yet, he found that he did, in a distant, detached way. He did care…and it scared him. Nightwing pushed the door open slowly, letting the light filter in on Starfire. She was not on the bed, but on the floor, bent over double, her face almost touching the ground. A large, wet spot had formed on the ground below her face. She looked up slowly, her normally amber face ashen. Her green eyes were rimmed with light, unnatural red. The hands capable of lifting a bus glistened in the pale light, covered in a film of salty tears. She was weeping.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, interrupted only by rattling sobs and hiccups. What was there to say? Nightwing stood still, forever hard as rock. She stayed bent, only her head turned towards him as the immaculate portrait of anguish and suffering. Her lips moved up and down, as if speaking inaudibly. His eyes flickered beneath his dark lenses.

"Why…"

Nightwing watched as Starfire rose to her feet, not bothering to wipe her face. He waited for her to continue.

"Why do…y-you torture y-yourself?"

The dark man stood still, his face slowly hardening into impenetrable rock. "What?" he almost hissed.

"W-why do you b-beat yourself on the in-inside?"

"Is that why you are crying?" he asked sharply. He did not regret his tone. "I told you before and I'll tell you again. Leave…me…alone."

Starfire did not waver. "Wh-why do-"

"SHUT UP!" roared Nightwing. He crossed the distance between them and slapped her.

Starfire's head snapped back, but her expression did not change. Another tear rolled down her face, but it wasn't because of her pain. "What could have happened to you?" Her voice was now clear, solid.

Nightwing's emotionless mask fell into anger, his whole face twisted in anger and rage. His entire body shuddered as he spoke. "Could I have been any more clear, girl? I told you to stay…away…from me." His voice shook slightly, denoting his distress. "Cry for yourself. Whine about your captivity. Scream for your pain. Leave me out of it."

Starfire glared at him. "No."

There it was again. Clear defiance. Nightwing growled low. "I know you have enough to cry about," hehissed."I've read your medical files. I've read your history. I know you have so much to weep about. I know all of it. Your parents handing you over to the Psions and their experiments, your rouge sister, your harrowing arrival. I know about the Base's brutal 'tests' and their exploitation. I know it all. Cry for the tests, your sister, your family, your abuse, torture, and anger. For your nearly broken sanity. Cry for that. Not for me. NOT FOR ME!" He breathed heavily. "I DO NOT DESERVE TEARS!"

Starfire twitched at the memories. "You deserve far more than tears, Nightwing. Oh, so much more." She reached a hand towards him, trying to touch his face.

Without warning, he grabbed her wrist and threw her into a wall. She simply let herself slam into the imposing plaster and slide down. Not even a small moan of pain.

Nightwing shuddered and fell to his knees, his eyes wide behind his glass band. "The tears. The blood. The anger. The pain. It…It never changed anything. It never changed my father. It never changed my mother's death." He swallowed hard, and continued to speak deliriously. "It t-twisted me. Twisted my sanity t-to its breaking point. Snapped it. I'm not a man. I'm a shell. A-a monster. My soul…is dead. My life has left me and will forever be gone. And I do not want it back. Not to see this soulless, bloody thing."

A pair of thin arms suddenly wrapped around his shoulders. And he did nothing. Not cry. Not speak. Not live. The arms shuddered as the alien girl cried for one who could not. Who never would. His tears had dried long ago.

Merciful darkness enveloped them both.

* * *

Angsty, no? Hmm, I think I'll have to change the genre. More like forced to. With all this freakin' crying business, it's not like I really have a choice.

Um, sorry about the length of this chapter. It could have been longer but it wasn't. I just didn't really want to break the mood. I'm kinda wondering what the next chapter should be about, so don't hold your breath on any quick updates. Maybe during the summer, but not now.

As for the chapter content, I hope it gave you an inkling to what happened, what will happened (that's hard to catch though), and why everyone likes being weepy. I'm stuck on that, yeah. Anyway, thank you reviewers.

Razvanor


	9. Impassive Walls

**Chapter 9**

"Yo, Giz, that transistor can't go there. You'll short out the system."

"Shut up, you walking trash-can I know what I'm doin'." Zaaattt! "Gah!"

A giggle. "He told you, didn't he? Such is the fate of the foolish." Another giggle.

"Ugh, I feel like an over microwaved burrito. And you shut up too, ya poofy haired witch. Get a hair-stylist."

A vulpine growl. "You no talk ta Jinx like dat. It not nice."

Raven watched the closed workshop door, irritation clouding her face. Having had just about enough of the constant noise, she had stolen out into the dingy hallway and tried to read. Sitting on the dirty floor, she leaned against the wall, book in hand. She scowled, trying to return to the book, "The Screwtape Letters". Another loud bang from within the chaos hidden behind the flimsy door rattled her nerves mercilessly. Gritting her teeth she hissed fiercely. "Laughter is-" she read aloud, before the door swung open.

Beast Boy walked out, rubbing his sensitive, pointed ears. "Ergh, couldn't stay in there any longer. They were driving me insane."

"That makes two of us," Raven replied, a hiss of anger tainting her usual monotone drone. "So you thought you'd bother me, is that it?"

Beast Boy was unperturbed by her hostility. "Whatcha readin'?"

The dark girl lifted the cover and tapped its title. "It's by an ancient writer from old Earth. The story'sabout a demon named Screwtape sending letters to his young apprentice. Very fascinating."

Beast Boy stole a glance at the pages and tried to read the old English. "Uh, I'm sure it is but I'll stick with comic books." He grinned and slumped down beside Raven, leaning against the wall comfortably.

Raven rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you will." She paused. "You know what your problem is, Beast Boy?"

He turned toward her, a look of mild curiosity inching across his face. "What?"

Raven shook her head and sighed. "You aren't the least bit sophisticated in any way and you don't let it bother you. That irritates me."

The green teenager chuckled. "Lots of things irritate you, Rae."

Raven pursed her lips. "We aren't talking about me. Couldn't you at least try and be less of a shapeshifting goofball." She scowled slightly. "I mean, this whole business with Starfire hasn't fazed even the slightest."

It was now Beast Boy's turn to scowl. "What are you talking about? I miss her and want to see her safe just as much as you. You're just too caught up in your own misery that you don't notice." He stopped, realizing what he had just said. "Uh, Rae, I didn't-"

"No," she interrupted, snapping her book closed. "No, you might be right for once." Raven looked down at book cover. "But I have my reasons and you aren't in any position to judge me."

Beast Boy looked down as well. "You're right. S-sorry." He glanced at Raven out of the corner of his eye. "But, ya know ya could talk to us once in a while. Things that don't involve this whole thing." He waved his arms around.

Raven didn't look up. "Why do you even care?"

Beast Boy grinned wide. "Because, under all that sarcasm and bite, you're a nice person, Rae. I just know it." He folded his arms behind his head, watching the door before him. It still shook with the occasional cry. But somehow,it seemed distant.

"You're too unassuming and naïve to know what you're talking about, Beast Boy." Raven cracked open her book again. "So you might as well stop."

Beast Boy pushed her book down. "No, I know exactly what I'm talking about, Raven. I know about your dad and how you're the portal, or something, but I don't see why you can't let some of that niceness shine through, ya know. To see you smile would be, like, the ninth wonder of the worlds."

Raven looked up at the green teenager, something unidentifiable in her eyes. "Beast Boy, just shut up, all right? My book needs me."

Beast Boy sighed heavily. "There you go again. Hiding behind your big, thick books. I sometimes even wonder if you're reading them. Maybe you're just hiding yourself in plain sight. Hiding from us, your friends." His green eyes flashed. "I have to wonder if you're really even care about us. If you care about Starfire's predicament. Maybe you're just making it all up." He stood up, looking down at the dark girl. "You give us no clue what you're thinking about, and it worries us. They all care about you," he said, jabbing a finger towards the door, "and I care, too. But,do you care about us?"

Raven didn't look at the shape-shifter, instead returning to her book.

Beast Boy huffed angrily. "Need some air," he mumbled angrily before marching towards the stairwell. He was soon gone.

Raven looked up, her eyes misty. Blinking hard, she tried to clear her vision. "I do care," she whispered to the air. "I care far too much." She wiped at her eyes.

The book lay forgotten beside her.

* * *

Cyborg was in the process of trying tograg andstrangle the short, goggled man. "Why ya little rat. You don't dare bring my mom into this." He struggled against Jinx, but only barely. He didn't really want to hurt her. "I oughta tear your arms off and shove them up where the sun don't shine." 

Jinx smiled nervously. "Ehehe, calm down, big guy. Let's just concentrate on our-whoop!"

Cyborg lifted her bodily and place her to the side before diving at the mini-mechanic. Gizmo's eyes widened as the large man grabbed him in a body tackle, slamming him hard into the ground.

"Gah! Oh my hip."

Sneak watched on from Jinx's shoulder, swishing his puffy tail. "Hehe, he sound like ol' man." Undisturbed by the raucous fighting, he licked something off of his fur. "Mm, mustard."

Cyborg and Gizmo rolled right into a bedpost, which Cyborg tried to slam the little man's head into the thick metal. Gizmo gritted his teeth and flicked a switch on his metal backpack. It sparked slightly before sending raw pulses of electricity into the android's body. Unfortunately, it also went through his own body. They both screamed madly until Gizmo shut it off. They released each other and lay panting from the exertion.

Jinx stepped up quickly and grabbed them both by an ear. They were hoisted to their feet wincing at the fate-bender's hard grip. "Are you two quite done?" They both nodded fervently, trying to pull their ears away. "Good!" She grinned and released them suddenly.

Gizmo rubbed his ear and glared at Cyborg. "He started it," he whined almost childishly.

Jinx grinned wider. "And I ended it. Now, how about you boys get back to work."

All the while, Sneak was laughing uproariously at the two boy's flaming read ears. "Heheheh, they ears ar' 's red's mine. Hehehehe."

Cyborg mumbled angrily under his breath. "Gizmo, keep working. I'm gonna go find something to eat."

Gizmo waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, I will. Just leave. You're cluttering my workspace enough."

Cyborg walked out of the room, Jinx and Sneak tailing him. Gizmo scowled. "Finally, some peace." He continued to fiddle with the device with expert fingers.

* * *

Sneak flew off as soon as they were outside, leaving Jinx and Cyborg to walk in relative quiet. They had seen Raven out in the hallway, but she had ignored them completely. Beast Boy was nowhere to be seen. 

"Man, that little green snot gets to me real bad," Cyborg said suddenly.

Jinx grinned. "He's not so bad if you know how to deal with him." Her platform boots kicked at something on the old pavement. "My sisters were much like him."

Cyborg raised an eyebrow. "You have family?"

The Cheshire cat grin faltered for a moment. "Had a family. But there is no use in dwelling in the past, is there."

Cyborg winced internally. "I suppose not."

They lapsed into silence, only the sound of their shoes on the concrete making any noise in the dilapidated city. The light was waning, meaning it was about three in the afternoon on the top levels. Night came much earlier to those who could not afford more sunlight, however diluted and dim it was. The wind whipped around corners of building and alleys, buffeting them this way and that. One or two other people passed by them, keeping their heads down and minding their own business. The desolation pressed down on the two meta-humans like a thick, invisible blanket. And they welcomed it, in a sense. It was far more free than the Base.

High above them, the streets and bridges of the rich criss-crossed and doubled back on themselves, forming a maze of metal, rock, and tar. The buildings encased the rich and elite in the same cold elements. It was all so far and distant. And neither Cyborg nor the petite Jinx wanted that distant, cold, fantasy. Both instinctively knew what the other wanted. The entire group knew what they all wanted.

Freedom.

But freedom is the most precious of all commodities. Of all luxuries. Something you couldn't buy or trade on the Universal Stock Market. Something priceless. And priceless things are hard to buy.

And the silence carried on.

* * *

Aaaannndd, their back. Didja miss them? I'm sure they missed you. 

Anyway, I'm the not the king of subtle, but you might notice some things I slipped into the dialogue that might be considered fringe romance. Dunno, tell me if you can pick up on it.

Not quite sure what I'm gonna do for the next chapter, so you might have to wait a while until an idea hits me in the head or something. But for now, Algebra 2 work. Yay?

Razvanor


	10. The Harvester

**Chapter 10**

Starfire watched gleefully as the white-topped mountains passed by slowly. The car flew low through the jagged range, simply at her request. Nightwing didn't even glance out the window. The red-haired alien, however, couldn't get enough of the view.

They had left the City limits and into the yet untamed mountain range known as the Senendrins. Long known for their majestic heights and dipping, lush valleys, the Senendrins was a famous getaway for the wealthy. Light danced off the turquoise waters of long, deep lakes. Thick, old alien trees swayed in the wind, their tops rippling like the ocean waves as the wind rustled through their leaves. Craggy, snow-topped mountains stood silently like long-dead rock giants of a bygone era. Flocks of strange birds of a million, glittering colors spontaneously sprang from the trees as a single body whenever something disturbed their anxious, paranoid roosting. Rivers moseyed through eroded valleys like big, blue snakes, running themselves to the distant, vast oceans of the world. Canyons and cliffs jutted forward from steep slopes or hid behind green vegetation, their rocks proudly displaying reds, grays, browns, and earthy yellows. The world was timeless there, civilization seemingly shying away from the clear, raw beauty.

Starfire drank in the view as a parched man drinks water. "It is so…so…" She trailed off, as if completely overcome.

Nightwing glanced out the window for a moment before re-assuming his driving. "Buncha rocks, trees, and water. I don't really see the attraction. Now, back to what we were talking about." He tapped a few buttons on his steering wheel, bringing up a display of a man's face on the small computer screen imbedded into the passenger side dashboard. "Ferdanand DeCray, a rich, private benefactor to the Slade faction has come to the mountains with his friends for the long holiday weekend. I'm going to need you for this job, as it requires a bit of…espionage." He looked decisively uncomfortable. "Some of his friends are benefactors to our cause. I need you to lure him away from his associates and leave the rest to me."

Starfire sighed and slumped in her chair a bit. "Why not dispose of him before his friends?"

Nightwing clenched his jaw a bit. "No witnesses."

The alien shuddered at this. "Very well," she muttered quietly before turning back to the mountains. "Nightwing?"

"Yes?" came the curt reply. Nightwing was on the edge, for some odd reason.

"I was thinking of the night bef-"

"It didn't happened," interrupted the dark man. He sighed and turned the steering wheel slightly to the left. "And never will again," he muttered darkly to himself.

Starfire slouched a bit more. "Oh."

The countryside passed languidly by the windows.

----

"Finally," muttered a rather irate Nightwing as he stepped out of the car. Popping open the trunk, he pulled some duffel bags out. He sighed and walked into the small cabin that was going their home for the next day or so…maybe longer. Starfire was already gallivanting around, chasing alien moth-flies, examining leaves as if they were diamonds, and simply taking in the rugged beauty that was the country-side. Squealing happily, she nearly ran into Nightwing, who was opening the door to the cabin.

"Eeeee-Oop!" She stopped short of the dark man, and glanced into the cabin. It was not very spacious, but the furniture was set so that it seemed as if there was more room. The entire cabin nearly shouted rustic. Un-polished wooden rafters supported the roof. The support pillar looked more like a trunk of a tree. Furniture lined with twisted, polished maple, ash, and oak. Wooden floor beams gave a dull sheen in the bright afternoon light. The walls were paneled with pine and some form of alien rowan framed the windows. Even the large refrigerator was fashioned to look like old, weathered wood.

Starfire's eyes were practically dancing in glee. "Beautiful," she breathed softly before running inside, touching everything.

Nightwing sighed as he set the bags down and reached out for a light switch that wasn't there. He muttered something under his breath before calling for lights. They winked on. "Star, calm down, it's just a cabin. And we are not here to vacation."

The pretty alien turned slowly from the panoramic window displaying the sudden drop the cabin was precariously built on. Mountains upon mountains stretched out before them to infinity. Starfire cocked her head and quieted down swiftly. "Do you not feel the exuberating feeling of ecstasy at such a sight?" She waved a hand at the window.

Nightwing looked out the window, grunted, and then looked back down into the bag he was rummaging in. "Yeah, real pretty. Star, I'm not here for the view." He looked up suddenly. "And neither are you. Keep that in mind."

Starfire suddenly felt the impulse to lash out at the human. She nearly gasped in surprise at the feeling. Hanging her head, she let her red hair drape over her face as she nodded. "I know, but you can still enjoy the view."

Nightwing didn't reply. Hefting his metal staff from a custom carrying case, he strapped it to his back with a cord. "There's a country club about five minutes from here by car. Our target is staying there and is presumably under heavy guard. This normally wouldn't be a problem, but as I said before, I don't want to kill our own benefactors." He slipped a long knife and a pistol, which Starfire had never seen before, into his black coat. "I need you to infiltrate the party that's apparently being thrown there. Make yourself noticeable to the target," he threw a picture of DeCray at Starfire, "and lure him outside." He stood up, holding a somewhat revealing red dress. "Understand?"

Starfire stared in shock at the dress. "You expect me to dress myself in such lewd apparel? I believe you have finally lost your mind."

Nightwing scowled and threw the dress at her. "Not my decision. You wear it, you lure him, I kill him. Not hard." He pulled out a small C4 cartridge with a detonator, hmmed a bit, and then stuffed it into his clothes.

The alien simply stared at the dress in her hands…and shuddered. "Very well. But you will, _will_ understand I will never do such a thing again."

The assassin frowned. "Just get in the dress." He glanced at his chronometer. "The party starts in three hours. I need to give you some pointers on what to say, how to walk, and so on" The dark man gave her a strong look. "And you will understand that I can't handle foul-ups. That's just my line of business." He waved at one of the two bedrooms, indicating she get ready.

Starfire sighed lightly before heading off to the room.

Nightwing simply pulled out his pistol, checked the sights, and glanced around. "Wood. Only the rich," he muttered fiercely.

----

Starfire stepped slowly out of the car, half-using flight to stay balanced on the ultra high-heeled shoes that were so popular in the fashion world. She smoothed out her velvety dress, trying desperately not to show off to much skin. The long dress was a retro throw-back of the early twenty-first century blended with early twentieth century elbow-length gloves. The sleeveless gown was long, almost reaching to the bottom of her heels. A large, purposeful slit in the dress exposed her leg, accompanied by gaps in one side of her dress, displaying her upper hip and some of her ribs. It was a tight, tight squeeze, even for someone as skinny as Starfire. Unseen, however, was a knife strapped to her inner thigh, just in case things became out of control. She was, after all, a young, unaccompanied woman in a chaos of drunken, rich, vacationing men. Oh yes, she might very well need the knife. She couldn't very well draw attention with shimmering orbs of heated energy.

Pasting a friendly smile on forcefully, she swayed slowly over to the door, which was opened by a teenager in a suit. No automatic doors here. The inside of the club was just as suspected. People squirmed and danced to retro-techno, desperately trying to keep their alcohol from spilling from long-fluted glasses. Men leaned suavely against walls, smiling flirtatiously and talking to giggling, air-headed women who apparently had nothing better to do but patronize their conversationalists. A bar stretched across the fall wall was crowded with chatting, laughing men, each holding various forms of intoxicating liquids of various different colors. Tables packed with rich business men were cluttered with plates of food in various stages of consumption. Busboys hurried to and fro like ants, dressed in their white, starched 'monkey-suits' as Nightwing had so blandly labeled them. All in all, a mass of dancing, writhing, drunken flesh.

Starfire scanned the room, her eyes flickering this way and that, slowly rolling over the phrases she had rehearsed with Nightwing in the car. Chitchat, flirtatious comments, and even a graceful hand movement or two. All for the sake of death. She shuddered internally.

DeCray was sitting calmly at a table, smoking an enormous, thick cigar, most likely imported illegally from Old Earth. He chuckled and smirked with the others at the table, his rolls of fat jiggling whenever he moved. Dull, black eyes stared out from deep sockets, bushy eyebrows scrunched in an eternal furrow of his brows. Thick, sausage fingers waved the cigar, his lips moving limply as he spoke his mind, which was quite often. Three empty plates flecked with bits of food and several empty glasses of wine were stretched out before him.

Starfire swallowed hard and began to move in his direction. She tried another smile. It came out forced, visibly strained. But she doubted any of these men would really notice in their fevered states. DeCray noticed her immediately. It was quite possibly the dress. Or her hair. His eyes wandered up and down her body hungrily, a lustful hint in his eye. Starfire nearly ran, but simply kept walking, hoping against hope that her joy of flight would not leave her to let her wobble along.

"Mr. DeCray?" She was rather startled her voice was so clear. She was also startled to see every eye around the table look up at her suddenly. Some grinned, some winked, all stared. Especially DeCray.

"Yes, my dear flower?" The alcoholic slur was audibly noticeable. "What can I do for you?" He continued to stare at her.

Starfire's mind kept telling her to run like crazy, but she stood her ground. "My name is Melanie Sylvia." She didn't look a bit Hispanic, but Nightwing was quite insistent on the name. "I'm from WNN and I wanted to interview you on your recent…" she faltered, forgetting her lines. "Um, your recent development of certain communities in the City." She gave a silent sigh of relief.

DeCray lifted a bushy eyebrow. "I see, my dear. Perhaps you would like to interview _all_ of me?" He laughed at the joke. All of his friends joined in. The stench of alcohol suddenly flooded the immediate area.

Starfire, missing the jibe completely, nodded as she wrinkled her nose a bit. "Yes, that was the general idea."

The laughter stopped as DeCray looked up, a grin hovering on his lips. "I see, my dear. But what's in it for you?"

Starfire, now utterly confused, furrowed her eyebrows. "I believe I said an interview."

The fat, unsightly man shifted a bit in his seat, as if excited. "Is that all? Of course I'll give you the interview. Just name the place and time, my dear."

Starfire suddenly grinned in relief. "I supposed now would be a good time. And outside, in the porch. It is far more tranquil there."

DeCray looked confused. "Um, the porch? I see, but won't that be too public?"

Starfire cocked her head. "How so?" Her naïve nature practically glared at the men.

DeCray grabbed her wrist with a meaty hand. "Nevermind. Come on, sweetie. I'm make this an _interview_ to remember." He led her to the porch, securely locking the door behind him. He turns around, his fat, limp lips smirking. The ungainly man slowly undid his tie. "Now, about that interview."

Starfire stared at him. "You have no need to undo your apparel."

DeCray slowly unbuttoned his shirt. "Nuh-uh, you aren't backing out of this." He shifted forward his hand reaching for Starfire hungrily. "You're mine tonight."

Starfire yelped lightly as his grubby, sweaty hand closed on her arm, pulling her closer. She didn't bother struggling, utterly confused. "Wh-what are you doing?"

DeCray's face melted into a sneer. "I'm taking you, girl."

The fat man suddenly jolted sideways as a fist plowed into his temple. He grunted in surprise before collapsing, senseless, against a metal and glass table. Nightwing stood glowering fiercely at the obese man. "You wanna touch her again, DeCray? Hmm?"

The business man put a hand to his temple, which throbbed unmercifully. He shook his head a bit, trying to clear the speckles of light dancing before his eyes. "Who-who are you?"

Nightwing's pole suddenly grew blades. He held it out before him, touching the man's Adam's apple. "You're executioner."

DeCray's eyes widened considerably. "You-you're from the Scaccarium faction." He pulled something out from under his coat. "I thought one of you would attack me." The fat man rubbed his head again as he fumbled with a small button. He pressed just as the blade sank into his hand. Yelling, he released the small remote as he clutched grubby fingers around the hole in his palm. Blubbering pathetically, he looked up at the dark assassin, pleading for his life with his eyes. Tears dripped like a mini waterfall off of his cheeks. "Please, please, please…" he simply repeats the word over and over. A swift thrust of the blade stopped the repetitive noise. Blood flew in an arc, splattering both Starfire and Nightwing.

Nightwing grunted in annoyance. "Wonderful."

Starfire, however, did not take it so well. The alien glanced down at the dress, which was completely covered in crimson liquid. Her breathing came in short gasps. "Bl-bl-blood…It's s-s-so…h-hot." She gulped hard, swallowing some blood which had seeped through her lips. The girl fell to her knees, gagged, retching.

The stolid assassin watched her for a moment before moving over and gently rubbing her back. However, he was taken by surprise as she wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging fiercely. "Th-the blood…everywhere." She began to cry, crushing Nightwing's waist against her chest.

Nightwing was completely off guard. He didn't know what to do with the bloody, crying mess hugging him. He almost lost his head because of it. A curved blade sang through the air, ripping air towards his throat. Nightwing barely jumped with Starfire hanging on to him. He stumbled over her and fell, hard. The breath left him when he struck the ground, while Starfire suddenly realized something was going on and released him.

Leaping to his feet, he scooped up Starfire and ran without looking at his assailant. Nightwing ran straight into a copse of trees beyond the patio. Dodging the dark trunks with relative ease, he broke through to the other side quickly. Stopping suddenly, he muttered curses as he almost ran right off of a cliff into a churning river below. "Star, can you fly?"

Starfire looked dazed, still staring at her bloody hands. "F-fly? I don't believe…I can."

Nightwing cursed again, put her down gently, and turned on his heel to face his attacker. "Something tells me I really don't want to meet that guy head on. That stupid remote must've called him." There was a slight shudder as a tree suddenly fell over, cut clean through. Foliage rustled as a monstrous man stepped forward from behind the tree, grinning madly. Dressed completely in blood-red leather, the man made a formidable picture, his arms bulging with un-natural muscles. His face was covered in an iron mask of great thickness, ending on his upper jaw. Slits cut into the iron revealed two red-streaked, pulsating eyes. A large, double-sided scythe of immense size rested comfortably in his hands. He grinned wider when he saw Nightwing, chuckling hoarsely. "Buna Zeewa, Nenya Nightwing. I am Harvester. I am to kill you." The dark assassin stepped forward, continuing in a heavy Romanian accent. "I wait for this long time. Let me harvest soul of yours."

Nightwing clenched his teeth. "If you fight as well as you speak English, then I'm in the clear."

Harvester simply grinned and lumbered forward, swinging down powerfully. Nightwing barely had any time to throw up his pole in a desperate upward block. Steel met titanium in a clash of sparks. Harvester, still grinning in the clutches of insanity, pushed down harder, trying to force his opponent to the ground. He succeeded. Nightwing lost his footing and fell back, rolling to the side as he hit the ground. The glittering tip of the scythe sank into the soft earth where he was mere seconds before. Springing to his feet, Nightwing ran swiftly around the lumbering juggernaut, hoping for a clean stab in the back. He lunged, pole extended, his eyeband catching a bit of the failing light. "Gotcha," he murmured.

The pole sank into the leather…and stopped. Nightwing was brought to a shuddering, painful halt before slipping to the ground, pole following. He grunted in surprise.

The Harvester spun suddenly, scythe spinning madly. Nightwing barely had any time to dodge. The blades ripped through the twilight sky, whining metallically. Pain suddenly shot through his arm as he realized that he had not dodged fast enough. Nightwing glanced down to see blood bubbling softly from the clean slash in his arm. Scowling fiercely, he glanced up to see Harvester grinning at him, holding the pole at the ready. "You not break skin of mine, prostuleh. I hard muscles. I use medicine…super-steroids."

Starfire slowly looked up to see the fight. Groaning softly, she shuddered fitfully, clasping her hands to her shoulders.

Nightwing didn't respond. He whipped out his gun and shot a few rounds. The bullets crumpled just below the red leather. His mouth nearly dropped. The dark assassin's mouth twisted into another scowl, shouting obscenities as he charged again, aiming for the head. Jumping, he aimed the blade's point at the enormous man's head, still yelling. He came to another shuddering halt as Harvester gripped his body with one hand. Bringing Nightwing to his face, he sneered, breathing rancid breath. "Che-am spoose, prostuleh. You die!" Harvester raised his hands, grinned, and slammed Nightwing into the ground.

Starfire gasped, shaking out of her dazed state. She found herself suddenly running, unfamiliar rage bubbling in her veins. "Do not harm him!" She rammed into Harvester, using her full strength to do so.

Completely off guard, Harvester flew into a tree, snapped through it, and bounced off the one behind it. He suddenly noticed Nightwing was still in his hand. Grinning, he brought the scythe to the assassin's neck. "No move, fatuh. He die if you do."

Starfire stopped, watching him warily. "Do not harm him. Please, release him." She felt tears spring unbidden to her eyes. The alien stared helplessly at the scowling, bleeding, bruised mess in Harvester's hands.

Nightwing struggled a bit, watching the interaction. Unfortunately, the man's mammoth strength held him like a vice. He slipped a free hand into his pocket, withdrawing the knife. With surprising speed, he slashed at the fingers. They began to bleed freely.

Grunting at the sudden pain, Harvester stared around Nightwing at his fingers, surprised. He flung the unfortunate assassin away from him, howling in pain as he gripped his cut digits.

Nightwing bounced off the ground, once, twice, before rolling almost off the cliff. Muttering fiercely, he stood to his feet slowly, gripping his arm. Pain shot through his body from various cuts and scrapes, and he could all ready feel his face puffing from bruising. "Not too many muscles in the fingers." He grunted. "Glad I took anatomy in school."

The maddened juggernaut released his fingers, gritting his teeth. Gripping his scythe, he flicked a button, somehow igniting the blade in flickering flames. "You die by flames of inferno!" He ran up swiftly, scythe singing and crackling in the darkening shadows. He swung powerfully, purposefully only grazing Nightwing's side. The dark cloth ignited instantly, cauterizing the bleeding wound painfully.

Nightwing howled, loud. Beating on his clothes, he managed to stifle the fire, only to receive a burning slash to his other side. White-hot pain flashed through him as the scythe burning tip shattered on of his ribs, paralyzing his voice. Another slash, more heat. He was sweating, trying to swallow back bile as he smelled his own flesh burning. Everything suddenly became distant, as if he were watching from far off by telescope. His hand fumbled unconsciously, bringing out the small detonator. He pressed the button slowly, mumbling a soft prayer as the C4 charge he had secured to the Harvester's neck when still in his grip ignited. A flash of light, and the world went dark.

----

Watching in morbid horror, Starfire screamed as Harvester's neck erupted in blinding hot light. Her vision was engulfed in brilliant flames, temporarily blinding her. There was a loud thud as Harvester slammed into the ground, his head gone. Animals, birds, and insects all gave out wild calls as the small shockwave from the detonation rumbled out into the dark night sky. People from the nearby country club ran out in a panic, believing themselves under attack.

And above all the noise, the only sound Starfire heard was the dull splash of a body striking the churning river waters.

* * *

Honestly, I'm happy about this chapter. I could have definitely done the fight scene better and all, and it might have been far too fast-paced, but I still liked it. And, it's also longer than the most of the others. Yay for me.

I would like to take this time to answer a thing or two for my reviewers, who may or may not be confused by the rather connived story line. Ahem, the Base is neither Slade nor Scaccarium faction. It is a government run operation, only it's like rogue.

The two factions aren't really known to the public, only to those who run them, contribute to them, or work for them. Essentially, both factions are to be considered underground monopolies of illegal goods. The Slade faction is more inclined to make a profit and keep trafficking drugs, weapons, and, um, promiscuous woman, yeah. The Scaccarium faction (oh, I'll give whomever figures out what that means an imaginary thirty thousand points) is more into the illegal importing of bananas, coffee, wood, and other expensive items which would cost a fortune to import from earth. Both Slade and Scaccarium are warring for dominion over the City. Slade wants money, Scaccarium want peace. The police have no idea about anything, so they're useless.

Robin, is not part of the base. As he is a normal human, he's not a meta. Metas include all superhuman, sentient beings. Whether they be aliens, powerful half robots, or humans that bend Fate, they are all considered dangerous to the worlds. Therefore, each world set up these Bases, to contain whatever strange being comes along their path. Humans are pig-headed like that.

As for the barely noticeable Romance themes in the story, quit bugging me. It's no fun if you just suddenly pair them up. They have to form a bond. Even though they are all teenagers (barely), they have a decent amount of maturity to know that teenage infatuation does not last long. If you set up a relationship simply because of looks and personality, then you have nothing. I'm basically letting the characters probe each other, finding faults and strengths, characteristics and ideals. With that maturity, they can make a better relationship. Remember, "To fall in love is to create a religion that has a fallible god. –Jorge Luis Borges, writer (1899-1986)". No one's perfect.

Hoooo, long ranty-rant. Ciao for now.

Razvanor

P.S. To LilOdieGirl123: By all means, use the inspiration. It doesn't cost me anything. Heh.


	11. Whispered Questions

**Chapter 11**

Light.

Blinding, hot light.

Nightwing groaned, water bubbling in his throat. His eyes opened a crack, staring straight at the sun. He rolled over, onto his stomach, vomiting river water. Coughing hard, he cleared his lungs. Struggling to all fours, his hand felt for his eyeband. They were gone. Grunting, he sat back on his haunches, cracking his eyes open wider.

Large, jagged cliffs of a canyon wall rose steeply on either side of the river he had so easily fallen into. Nearly a quarter mile away, the cliffs stopped…and the beach dunes began. The mountains spread far in the North, their peaks smeared with distance. The river itself ran gently into the ocean, feeding the eternal waters of the world. The dark assassin stood shuddering fitfully on a small pebble shore bank that bordered the water. The sun glared down hot.

Nightwing nearly fell as sudden, unfamiliar pain flared from various points on his body. His face throbbed, along with his legs, arms, and torso. Glancing at one such throbbing spot on his forearm, he was met with an enormous black and blue bruise the size of his hand. "Rocks," he muttered, groaning lightly. Looking at the beach again, he began to walk towards it on wobbly legs.

----

Starfire stood in the sheriff's office, a blanket over her shoulders. Her face was streaked with angry red lines, denoting hard crying. She occasionally hiccupped up bit, as a reminder of her long cry in the officer's car.

"One more time, Miss Sylvia. You were being…" the sheriff glanced at his e-pad, where electronic scribbling covered the shiny surface. "You were assaulted by DeCray at the party when you asked for an interview, right?" He looked back at the pad. "Then, you're friend, Mister, uh, Smith intervened and forcefully tore him off. Am I getting this right?"

Starfire stared at the metal desk before her blankly, nodding only slightly.

The sheriff, a man of about eighty-three, scratched at his graying hair. Fit, burly, and healthy as the day he was born only because of mod-patches. Like so many others. He sighed, leaning back in his squeaky chair. He glanced at the pad. "All right. Then, DeCray called in," glance, "the Harvester. There was a fight, with Smith on the losing end." The sheriff looked skeptical. "Then, Harvester's head supposedly blew up." He put down the pad. "Miss Sylvia, this whole story sounds very…contrived. Either you're lying, or you're on some sort of medication." He glances up at his deputy, who was leaning casually against a wall, munching on an apple.

The deputy wiped his mouth and moved forward. "We confirmed the body, the weapon, and that there was a fight. Only way to describe such torn up dirt, singed grass, and a thick tree seemingly slashed clean through." He sighs a bit, glancing at the sheriff. "The head was missing from the body, and it seems to be from a concentrated explosion of ordinary black gunpowder." He pauses and leans forward a bit. "But, Miss Sylvia, you're story is shaky at best. Witnesses say you flirted with DeCray and took him out back. And, it was mighty lucky that you're friend, who was not seen at the party, suddenly appeared from out of nowhere and helped you. Not only that, but DeCray's throat was stabbed through. Cause of death was severing of the spinal cord." The deputy squinted his eyes. "A sort of wound that would be too clean for the scythe we got from the crime scene."

Starfire didn't look at him. She stared, stared, stared at the metal desk, as if seeing something the others could not.

The deputy leaned forward a bit, trying to get into her line of vision. "There's something else at play here, Miss Sylvia. Are you sure there aren't bigger things we should be worrying about."

The door burst open suddenly. The two men swiveled to look. Starfire didn't even move.

"Ah, Miss Sylvia. I see you've gotten to know the local police force. Come along, let's get back to the City."

The alien girl looked up slowly, her emerald eyes questioning. She almost smiled.

Bruce Wayne stood in the door way, a casual, easy smile stretching his face. Dressed in normal business attire, he seemed completely comfortable in the somewhat dreary police station. He turned to the police, flashing them a grin. "That's no problem, right?"

The police understood and began to nod. "Yes, Mr. Wayne, she's free to go," the sheriff said slowly, his voice tainted with something akin to fear.

Starfire stood slowly, letting the blanket fall. Bruce placed a comforting arm around her lithe shoulders and led her out of the small, county precinct. As soon as they stepped into the car, the smile melted into a hard line. Starfire didn't say anything as the gentle purr of the engine arose.

"So, he fell in the river." It was a statement, not a question. Bruce gripped the steering wheel hard, his knuckles turning white. "Idiot."

Starfire lifted her head slightly, staring at Bruce in slight shock. "But I was led to believe that he was your pupil? Have you no ill-emotions for his demise?"

The faction leader turned cold eyes on her. "The moron's not dead. You think falling into a river would kill him?" He waved a hand airily. "It'd take more than water to kill such a tenacious soul." Bruce sighed. "He'll show up. I'll send out some search parties to see if they can find him, but I was thinking…"

Starfire looked up as Bruce stared at her. Beautiful scenery flashed by unheeded.

"I was thinking that maybe you would have the best luck finding him."

Starfire jerked. "What?"

Bruce shrugged. "You two seemed to get rather attached."

Starfire's eyes narrowed. "How would you know such a thing?"

"Mini-cams. Quite easy when a camera is only the size of a grain of sand. I watched the little fiasco with that Harvester guy as well." Bruce shifted a bit in his seat. "Had my men run a background check on him. He was hired by the Slade faction. I'd bet money on that research." His fingers tapped a bit against the steering wheel. "Apparently, Slade's not as slow as I thought. He got an assassin protecting one of his top 'wallets'. A good one. Managed to scratch up Di…" He stopped before glancing at Starfire. "…scratch up Nightwing pretty bad. Even break a rib, if my analyzers are worth their salt. And that's hard to do. Nightwing's the best." The billionaire turned back to stare out the front windshield, his mouth in a hard line.

"It is wonderful to know that our privacy is compromised," said Starfire bitterly. She suddenly turned, her eyebrows furrowed. "Why did you force Nightwing to detain me? Surely, there are other holding areas."

Bruce actually chuckled, a genuine one. "You could be a powerful asset, seeing as you rammed a Romanian giant on steroids into a tree without flinching."

"I desire the true reason." Starfire tucked a red strand behind her ear, as if to listen better.

"Hmm, well, there are several, I guess." Bruce's face melted into seriousness. "One being that he was going insane. Another, he doesn't talk to anyone about anything but business. And finally, you're insurance."

"Insurance?"

Bruce nodded. "Yes. He could very well go rouge. If you were to form some sort of bond with him, he would have to come back." He scowled, drumming his fingers again. "Unless he's far more heartless than I give him credit."

The alien slumped against her seat, her eyes staring out into the wild mountains, sightless.

----

Clink!

Clink!

Sparks.

Lazily tendrils of smoke curled up past the leafy, palm-like trees and into the twilight sky. Nightwing put down his knife and a small flint rock he had found before leaning back into the dry, cooling sand, watching the small flames gradually grow bigger as it lapped at larger pieces of wood. The wind blew gentle and warm from the ocean, several hundred yards away, bringing with it the sharp, salty smell of seawater. The dark assassin picked up a turnip-like plant he had dug out of the ground earlier and impaled it on a stick before setting it over the fire. There was little twilight. It came, lingered for a few moments, and plunged into the surreal darkness of night, lit by the Shattered Moon and distant, twinkling stars.

After walking nearly five miles either way along the beach, Nightwing had found no signs of habitation. He really shouldn't have been surprised. This colony world was a relatively newly settled one; only one hundred years had the City and its counter-parts been able to grow since being claimed by the United States Empire. The Cities, full of paranoid people still fearing a repeat of Felandra Incident, had not reached to the waters and wouldn't for many, many years. Cities grew slowly, only developing several square miles a year. Not even resorts or outposts this far out. Brave few dared building retreats in the mountains, but people such as those brave few were the ones making the money.

As the root slowly cooked over the fire, Nightwing checked his make-shift bandages of leaves and fibers. He hadn't been bleeding earlier but his rib had been screaming pain. He had reset the only way he knew how, the hard way. Make an incision, correct the bone, then splint it. The sand was still red several yards. Other damages were small. Bruises, black and ugly, burned cuts, and slight lacerations from colliding with river rocks while unconscious. It was a miracle he was alive. The assassin seriously reconsidered being injected with nano-healers, despite his phobia. It would have made recovery much easier.

His shirt and overcoat lay in ripped and ragged strips beside him, ready to be charred for the use of tinder. There wasn't much he could do with them anyway, seeing at they were practically trash after his little brawl with a deranged lunatic. He sighed, wondering how he would make himself a shelter, seeing as all he had was a fighting knife and waterlogged dynamite charges. He had doubtlessly lost his bladed pole somewhere in the raging torrents of the river and the gun was useless as the clip was empty and he hadn't thought to bring more bullet charges.

Nightwing's only hope was the fact that Bruce would send out search parties along the river. Unfortunately, they wouldn't find him at the river. Apparently, that's where all the local carnivores drank. He nearly lost his head to what looked like a large deer with retractable blade-like claws. From that moment, he had promised himself that he would never be swayed by an innocent face again.

Picking up the now-soft tuber, he ate carefully, muttering to himself around hot mouthfuls, trying to organize his thoughts. "Damage assessment; I feel like crap. Shelter assessment; trees, yea." Munch. "Weapon assessment; knife and useless crap." He threw the gun and soaked dynamite out onto the beach disdainfully. "Life assessment…Yeah, it's crap too." He scowled off into the dark, his food almost forgotten. "Starfire had better be all right," the dark man mumbled softly.

The waves lapped softly at the beach, lulling him. His eyes hooded over, the deathly hard gaze softening. "What am I going to do?" The night didn't answer him. A star twinkled for a bright moment in the sky. "What have I done?" Again, no answer. "What will it cost me?" He sighed, crossed his legs and arms, and leaned toward the fire. The heat was almost unbearable, but he held his face there. "It could have all been so different," the dark assassin whispered into nothing. "No easy answers."

He slept, hunched towards the fire, his face red with the heat. And the dreams came.

----

_Glimpses of light in the overbearing dark. Images flashed, spun, twisted, merged. Crimson, emerald, obsidian, and chrome. A maelstrom of thought, sound, and blood._

_He stood in the middle of the twisting, warping winds, sobbing, gripping his shoulders, tearing his face, pulling his hair. His weapon cast aside. The storm tore at him, jerked him, pulled him. A new face, a new voice added to the spinning madness. The Harvester. Just another soul._

_The wind died, leaving him on a long, dead plain. Rocks, sharp, cutting, slicing. He sat on the plain, the stone pressing into him. Ripping his skin, scratching his muscle. He didn't care._

_Bones. Hundreds of thousands of bones. Stretching to the horizon, striving for infinity. He sat on death. He sat on horrible, horrible death. He cared. Weeping, crying, mourning. He cared. The slate grey sky rumbled with thunder, scarlet lightning igniting the world in incarnadine light. The rain began. The red, red rain. _

_A hand brushed his shoulder. He jerked. An arm gripped his chest in a fierce, yet gentle hug. Green eyes bored holes in the grey, grey clouds. They fled, taking their red with them, taking their bones and rocks with them. Taking their pain, even if for a short while. He…smiled.

* * *

_

Hmm, I have receivedquestions as to Starfire's emotional state. To answer that…I've decided not to. Heh, I'm the author, so 'neya-neya'.

As for the chapter, well, if you'll notice, there's less angst and some more scientific explanation junk. Sorry about that. I've been reading an compendium of short stories by acclaimed sci-fi writers and it's rubbing off on me. Even my style was slightly altered…just by reading one book. Says something, doesn't it? Well, if you find out tell me. I've got Algebra II junk to sort out. Ciao.

Razvanor


	12. A Moment

**Chapter 12**

Beast Boy sighed as he began to unhook the large piece of machinery from his back, watching as Raven hovered close by. "Raven, could you hold it steady?" The machine was instantly encased in black. Wiping his brow after the long flight, he sat down on a small ledge…and made the mistake of looking below. He scooted backwards immediately, gripping at the large receiving antennae. "Don't look down. Don't look down. Don't look…" He continued to repeat the mantra, trying to stay focused on what he was doing.

The tallest building in the City stretched to nearly three miles vertically and encompassed two miles at its base. It was here Gizmo's device would set to work, scouring all of the upper building for signs of unusual power. And if nothing was found, the scan would lower. If necessary, the strangely powerful device would scan underground as well. Thermal scans, nuclear scans, infrared scans, X-ray scans, you name it. All packed into the relatively small, yet bulky piece of hardware Beast Boy was using to hack into the antennae to pirate the signal. "D-don't look down, don't look down…"

"Beast Boy…shut up." Raven lifted a hand to her temple, barely concentrating on holding the machine.

"_Kshhh, click! Yo, snotbags, report. What's going on up there?"_

Beast Boy sighed and tapped his ear. A small earpiece squawked with Gizmo's voice. "Almost done," he muttered irritably, his fingers criss-crossing wires and attaching them.

"_Well, hurry up, moron, before a guard comes up and spots you both. Oh, and don't forget to set the hologram. No need for someone idiot to figure out we're hacking their signal because we were stupid enough to leave things out in the open."_

Beast Boy clenched his jaw, fingers still working. "There, got it." The shape-shifter flipped a switch and watched with a satisfied smirk as it blinked and whirred to life. "Is there a signal coming in?"

"_Aww yeah, good work, B.B."_ Cyborg's voice. _"Come on back and check it out."_

Nodded, as if Cyborg could see it. "Right." He tapped his earpiece again and turned toward the edge. Raven was sitting on the ledge, legs dangling over the massive drop. "We can go, Rae."

"Hmm," was all she said, not bothering to move. "Nice view." No emotion, no inflictions, just a monotone drone.

Beast Boy dropped down beside her, trying very hard not to gulp in fear. He tried a weak smile. "S-sure is."

They sat in silence for a long moment, letting the silence of comfortable companionship envelop them. Here, miles above the crust, the world was silent. Still. Breezes whipped and pushed at them, ruffling their hair, their clothes, and nothing else. Both minds were still for that long moment, just staring out into the endless urban sprawl, high above the steel and glass wasteland, comfortably blank in thought and expression. The treachery and honesty, sorrow and joy, was distant and far-removed, leaving them pleasantly sapped of emotion…for that one, long moment.

"I never liked cities."

Beast Boy cocked his head at Raven's statement. "Hmm?"

The empath waved a hand over the city, as if she were the master of ceremonies presenting an attraction at an ancient theater. "The city. I never liked it. It was always too fast."

Beast Boy chuckled a bit, closing his eyes and leaning his head back, supported by his arms behind him. "Everything is fast these days. Nothin' you can do about it, Rae. Just," he paused to shrug. "Just live."

The dark girl sighed. "Beast Boy, don't you ever feel like your being left behind? Like you weren't meant for this time, this place, this…reality?" She hugged herself against the winds.

Cracking an eye open, Beast Boy threw her a glance. "Why, do you?" A warm smile spread over his features. "Well, I suppose, at one point, I did. But…it's like gas. It'll pass." He chuckled at his own, stupid joke.

Raven rolled her eyes. "Leave it to you to crack jokes while I'm trying to have a decent discussion."

Winking, the shape-shifter laughed. "Where would we be if we couldn't laugh at stupid stuff?" His fingers drummed on the stone ledge. "Pretty freakin' dull, that's what."

"And smarter," Raven pointed out, emotionlessly. She stood up, her cape falling over her body comfortably. "Let's get going. They're waiting for us, I'm sure."

Had anyone bothered to look at the sky, they would have seen two streaks, one green, one blue, flying side by side.

---

Gizmo grunted as the Immersion Visor flickered with insurmountable amounts of data flooding in from the hijacked signal. He softly sub-vocalized a few commands to narrow the search and filter out whatever wasn't related to what they were doing. "Tin-can, help me out here. I ain't bein' paid enough for this."

Cyborg growled, facing away from Jinx, his conversation cut short. Stomping over, he connected to the computer terminal and stood stocks-still, the information flashing through the wires at speeds only his neural net could fathom. The android's human eye flicked back and forth, as if reading text in mid-air. "We could be at this for _hours_, Giz." He paused. "Oooh, I didn't know they had a nuclear reactor there."

"Shut up," Gizmo snapped, lifting his Visor. "I can't concentrate on…Whoa!"

A dull thump could be heard as Sneak deftly shoved Gizmo out of the chair with surprising power and lifted the Immersion Visor to his own eyes. "S'upid green man no' unnerstan' data. Me unnerstan' data." He fell silent, his little button eyes squinted in concentration.

Gizmo stood up, rubbing his hip. "Why you dirty little flea condo! I oughta tear your little head off and use it as a paperweight!"

The little Vulpinite shot him a nasty glare. "An' I oughta do someting equ-eqally nasty, you bad pe'son." His head turned back to the Visor, just before Gizmo brought a fly swatter down between his perked ears. Smeck!

The Visor went flying as the little fox jumped with a tiny yelp of pain and lunged at Gizmo's face. "I makes'ya pay!"

Sneak connected solidly with Gizmo's face, gripping tight with his little arms, nipping with sharp little teeth. Gizmo yelped and grunted, trying to breathe around Sneak's fuzzy little body, before swinging the fly-swatter to slap him off. The Vulpinite dodged quickly to the side, just before the swatter landed. Scowling, Gizmo turned his angry, swatter-marked face at Sneak before lunging. Sneak yelped again as he was grabbed in a body-slam type attack and slammed into the ground. With un-proportionate strength, the little fox forced Gizmo's arms open and began pounding on him with his little paws.

A strong, dainty hand yanked Sneak away from Gizmo before anything else could happen. Jinx frowned at the Vulpinite. "Sneak, no fighting. We need him alive, got it?"

Sneak tried a sheepish smile before wilting in surrender. "Yeah, me go' it."

"And so do I!" Cyborg exclaimed, his mouth sub-vocalizing a command. "I got _something_, anyway." The terminal monitor flickered to life, a strange mash of colors on the screen. "Check it out," he said, motioning blindly in the computer's direction. He didn't bother disconnecting.

The others moved forward and squinted at the screen. Only Gizmo seemed to be able to understand it. "What the…" The Immersion Visor slipped over his head swiftly, a flurry of commands sub-vocalized in an instant. "Well, if that don't beat all," the short tech wiz murmured softly.

Jinx fidgeted, her hands clasped together. "What? What is it?"

Sneak, losing interest swiftly, flew out a window. He didn't really care all that much. No-body noticed.

Cyborg hmmed, rubbing his chin as his human eye continued to flicker. "These are high energy readings. The blobs of color are auras of intense concentrations of thermal energy from hyper-active mitochondria. That usually means that this certain bio-form," He pointed a finger at one of the blobs, "Is most likely a Meta, simply because only Meta cells work on such an agitated plane." He sub-vocalized something and continued talking. "If we were to scan this building we would find that there is only one true Meta here."

Jinx bowed to a blind audience, her Cheshire cat grin wide as ever. "Thankyou, thankyou." She straightened and peered at the blobs again. "All right, so what's that mean? We found Starfire all ready?"

Gizmo smirks. "No, probably not. The percentage is slim to none that her energy readings are as low as this." The image suddenly panned out, showing that the blobs were actually inside a gray-scale high-rise's basement, nearly thirty-eight floors below the surface. "It means either there are some Metas we haven't found yet, or…someone's keeping Metas as pets."

Cyborg scowled, still blind as his connection fed him more information. "That's…a possibility. How could we find out?"

Gizmo leaned back a bit, tapping his chin. "Well, we'd need a hacker. A good one. I'm sure they have surveillance cameras and cy-sects. We could possibly hack into them and get a glimpse of what's going on in there." He sub-vocalized a command and the terminal shut down. Slipping the Visor off, he squinted, staring at the wall. "There ain't many who can do that. That's a Wilson Enterprises company building and they have top-notch security."

Cyborg yanked his cables free and smirked. "I think I might know someone."

---

Davidson jerked awake as his communicator vibrated. Fumbling a bit, he tapped at the screen in his hand, displaying Cyborg's face. "What?" he growled. "This better be good, freak, or I'll tear your shiny metal head off for disturbing my nap."

Cyborg didn't even flinch. "Colonel, I need Subtraho."

Unlike Cyborg, the military man's eye twitched. "You're…joking, right?" He chuckled cruelly. "That lunatic is going nowhere." He paused, before furrowing his brow. "Why?"

"I need a hacker."

The colonel scowled and ran a hand through his silver hair. "I'm sure you do. That's the only thing that maniacs good for. That's why he isn't getting out."

"Do you want Starfire?" The question was blunt, hard.

Davidson scowled down at the screen. "Listen here, you Metahuman freak. I don't take orders from kids. I especially don't take orders from mutations and earthy abominations." The scowl melted into a mean smile. "Subtraho is going nowhere near a computer."

A sigh. Cyborg rubbed his metal head plating. "Sir, if I can't have him, I can't get Starfire." It's a blatant lie, but he doubted Davidson knew that. "We need to hack into the place she's being held."

Davidson scowled again, before sighing. "Fine. Subtraho it is then. Don't bother doing anything, he'll find you." The aging colonel tapped his hand again, the screen going dark instantly. He rubbed his face. "There's a reason he's known as Subtraho," he muttered to no one before moving towards the door.

* * *

In the style of one of my favorite writers, I'm splitting the story to make it more suspenseful…and junk. 

Subtraho- Latin adjective meaning stealthy or doing something by stealth. Fits a hacker, eh? He's original, so don't touch. I might bite your finger off.

Raz


	13. To Lose One's self

**Chapter 13**

Starfire sighed and combed her fingers through her hair. The fire sparked and crackled before her, embers floating up through the tree branches and into the dark night beyond. Alien insects chirp and cricked in the night, each trying to outdo the other's tiny voice. Gentle winds ruffled the thick foliage above them, showering fragmented moonlight down on the campers' heads.

"The river opens up at the beach here," muttered Bruce, clad in ragged looking trekking clothes, a thick jacket keeping the encroaching dank and chill of a mountain's night off of his back. A wide map spread over his knees displayed all known charted areas. Satellites can't get everything, after all. "But there are rapids all the way through. It's very likely he hit one and drowned."

The young alien girl glanced at the map, and squinted her eyes, trying to make out the squiggly landmass in the dim firelight. "He made it, you should not worry of that."

A local guide, Tom something or other, snorted from his place around the fire. "I've been up and down those rapids in a _boat _and barely survived. The chances of someone making it through there are slim to none."

Bruce gave the guide a warning glance. "I'd appreciate it if you just shut up and stuck with the job I'm paying you for." Folding the map, he stuffed it into his knapsack.

Reaching a hand towards the fire, Starfire sighed again. "No, I am sure he survived. His will is strong, his body stronger, and his mind strongest." Emerald eyes flickered to Bruce, strong and determined. "This I know and this I believe."

The millionaire slowly, carefully, allowed a smile to stretch across his face. A true one. "I…see." Crossing his arms over his chest, he nodded once. "I, unfortunately, know that humans are not as hardy as your people. We are so much more fragile. And as such, we have to force our bodies into something resembling strength. Something of power." He glanced at the guide swiftly, and found him scowling and listening to music. "Nightwing's that way. He tries to become powerful, with all that he is capable of. But he is still human." Bruce motioned at the tent behind her. "Get to sleep, and don't forget what I said. If we find him dead, don't act like you weren't warned."

Clenching her jaw, Starfire stood and marched angrily to the tent. "He _has not_ perished," she growled softly before she disappeared behind the flap.

---

"Ngghhh!"

Thwack! Crunch!

"Hyahhh!"

Grunt.

Nightwing stepped back as the enormous carnivore took the blows and gave some of his own right back. The assassin's body was covered in long streaks of blood and torn flesh. The animal didn't seem too happy about a broken rib and a slash across its leather like hide. Rearing on four of its back legs, the alligator-like snout snapped and clashed together in a flurry of teeth and black mouth flesh. Bird talons worked the sand in an angry fury. Black eyes stared unblinking at the man in front of it. Leathery black wings flapped a bit, then once more, kicking up some sand. A chimera.

"I need to eat to, you know," murmured Nightwing, his bladed pole working a tight circle in his right hand. "You'll die."

The chimera simply opened and closed its snout in an infuriated gesture. The wings flapped again, lifting him clumsily into the air. Sand flew in a blinding wind. Shielding his eyes, Nightwing had no chance to see the lizard tail slam into his chest.

Wham!

A tree shuddered as Nightwing slammed into it in a groaning heap. Just his luck to slam into the only copse of trees on the beach. Standing up shakily, using his pole for support, the assassin glared at the animal with cold blue eyes. "All right, ugly, have it you're way." Adrenaline finally kicked in as he sprang towards the chimera, pole outstretched. A taloned claw moved to knock him away. The claws found nothing to hit at as Nightwing twisted almost impossibly sideways in mid-air. Grabbing the beast's jaw, he swiftly rammed his pole into his throat.

Nothing. Not even a squeal of pain. Nightwing stared at the throat blankly. "What the-Ugh!" The chimera batted him away, forepaw talons clicking in anticipation of a meal. The dark man rolled in the sand for a moment or two before sliding to a stop in a flurry of sand, only to find the chimera's jaws shooting down at.

Snap!

The chimera grunted furiously as Nightwing held the jaws closed an inch from his nose, saliva dribbling from the beast's lips and onto his face. "Good…ngh….you share the alligator's weak point." Muscles bulging, Nightwing did a back roll, flipping the chimera over his shoulder, no small feat considering it was nearly twelve feet long and as heavy as average men. Deftly following through with the back roll, he managed to keep his grip on the snout. Landing on the chimera's stomach, he delivered a swift punch just beneath the sternum at what he hoped was the beast's solar plexus. A pained snort told him he was right. With the beast winded, Nightwing tightened his grip on the snout and heaved powerfully sideways.

Crack!

---

The fire popped and fizzed as chimera fat dribbled into the fire. A healthy section of the hindquarters, skinned and cleaned, sat above the flames, skewered on a sharpened stick. Nightwing carefully tended to his wounds under the trees he had decided would be his camp for the time being. Sticks secured to four trees by twisted leave filaments formed a sort of roof with palm leaves packed together on top. It would have to do for now. Scraps of bones and charred plants lay littered around in a messy reminder of past meals. The chimera, its neck twisted grotesquely to the side, lay a little further away, large pieces of its body carved away. It would last a while if Nightwing smoked the meat.

He sighed, rubbing carefully over the bandages made from his overcoat, feeling the sticky blood soaking through the cloth. And he found his eyes drawn to the fire again. Night after night, when there was nothing to do but wait for the food to cook, his mind would wander. He hated that. Forcing his mind back to the thoughts he wanted to think of only made matters worse. Nightwing grunted in frustration as plans for rescue by fire led to thoughts of flickering flames, to thoughts of flaming red hair. He swore softly. "What has she _done_ to me?" he mumbled to thin air. Slamming a fist into a tree, he gritted his teeth, grinding them. "That stupid girl won't stay _out_." He cursed her, cursed Bruce, cursed himself, his lifestyle. Everything that came to mind.

And he was suddenly thinking of big, doe-like emerald eyes and the cute little Tamaranian eyebrows. Soft, flowing….

"NngghaaAAAAH!"

Crack!

The unlucky tree shuddered and cracked, splinters running all over its trunk. "Why…won't….she…stay…OUT?" The tree shuddered again and fell over, its palm-like leaves ruffling in quiet dismay.

The assassin gripped his head. "No, no, no. I'm _not_ in love with her. I _hate_ her. I hate her so very much. I hate her optimism, I hate her strength, her power, her kindness. I hate it _all_!" He lucked up, blue-eyes staring angrily at the indifferent stars. "No body should be able to have this sort of influence. _No one_. I'm not some little kid who decided to become infatuated." He swore again. "I'm a killer. A bloodied, tainted, horrible shell of a man. I have no feelings. To have feelings is to lose. To die. To hand yourself hand-cuffed and broken to your enemies. I do _not_ have feelings. Emotions are useless to me, to my profession." The night didn't bother answering the distraught man. "What's wrong with me," he whispered. "I didn't ask for this. I didn't want this. I don't want her. I don't want love. I don't _need_ it."

He barely noticed the meat blackening over the fire, dry and hard. It fell off the stick and into the flames.

"Well, dad, you got it. You've got your wish, you bloody wretch. I hope you're happy, laughing your head off in Hell." Nightwing spat the words out, as if they tasted bad. "You always did love to see pain. Always did love to see me squirm. To see mom squirm. You sick blood-mongerer." He shivered in the humid night air. "And now you see me broken by the most beautiful thing." He swore again. "Failure comes in so many different packages." And his mind returned to her.

Crack!

Another tree shuddered as Nightwing slammed his head into it. Dark red spots fell to the ground. Hedrove his head into it again and again, until darkness took him. The assassin's body thumped into the ground, dreams coming once more.

---

_Lighting clashed on the horizon, its crimson lighting igniting the sky. The clouds burst into flames in the yellow sky. The sun hung next to the moon, both dark and cold…dead._

_The forest was cold, barren, and endless. His breath fogged and misted before him as he ran, his legs pumping beneath him, leaves crunching and snapping like bones. Then, the leaves were twisted human parts, their hands spreading out like branches, their fingers like leaves. Mouths moaned and groaned in the tree trunks, their pale grey arms reaching out to grab him. Eyes blinked and stared at him from their places. Teeth grew were no teeth should grow. And he pressed on, blinking sweat and tears and blood from his eyes, his mouth moving in incoherent gasps and wheezes. There was someone behind him, chasing him, cold and silent. Deadly._

_His flight came to an abrupt stop as the ground dropped away to scarlet seas far below. And his pursuer was upon him. Metal glimmered, sang, danced in the air, clashing and resounding as he fought over the edge of the cliff. He wept. He screamed. He whimpered. The attacker did not care. Did not cease. Lighting flashed again, bloody light washing over the landscape, revealing souls. Weeping, moaning, twisting souls. The trees joined the dirge of the dead, their grotesque mouths working to keep the dead harmony. And the battle raged. _

_They came to a standoff. He faced…himself. A snarling, blood-drenched, pale doppelganger snarled at him, blood that was not his own dripping off of his nose, down the strands of his hair, from his clothes, from the metal pole. Drip-drip-dripping to the ground, ever falling to the cold, cold earth. "Surprised?" The voice was his own, but not his own. "You really shouldn't. After all, you've been fighting yourself for so long. One of us was going to get stronger. You lost." The other him slammed a fist into his face, knocking him over the cliff's edge. He hung onto the rim desperately, the waves crashing and reaching for him far below. _

_The doppelganger glared down at him, black hair tainted incarnadine. "I'm taking over again, Dick. You're getting in my way. You and your stupid feelings. I'll make you enjoy slaughter again, just like before." The bloodied assassin stepped on his hand, making him gasp in pain. "Don't act like you didn't expect this, Dick. I've been lurking around in the back of your mind for years. I've decided to stop paying rent. This…is what you might call a hostile takeover." _

_He sobbed once as his fingers began to loosen and fall away. His other hand clung gamely on. The doppelganger moved to this hand as well. "Come on, Dick. I'm making your life better. You don't need this stupid broad. You don't need these feelings. They are a distraction from your true love." He licked his bloody lips. "Blood. Now…I don't want to see you again." The bloody assassin pushed his hand off the cliff. "You'll soon realize my logic."_

_The scarlet waters swallowed him, his fingers still outstretched as the world turned red._

_And...he lost himself. _

---

Nightwing jerked awake, the hot sun glaring down on his head, warming his face. Wiping cold sweat off of his face, he took a great breath. Glancing at his hands, he willed them to stop shaking.

Glancing at the sky, he saw red, unnatural red. And he grinned, grinned, grinned.

* * *

Do the hula….TWIST! 

Something has come to my attention that I believe I need to address. I've noticed some reviewers cursing in the exultation (fun word!) of my work. Well, please stop. I don't curse and I don't like to read or hear cursing if I can at all help it. Besides that, I greatly, _greatly_, appreciate reviews. They make me feel all warm and tingly….Not really, but they are very nice. Especially in-depth ones. They give me more information on what to work on than, 'Great Job', or 'Keep Writing'. For those who do, I give you all a great big (friendly) hug. Ahem, yes, well, don't expect any more. I'm rather stingy with those.

Anyway, I believe this new development has just opened more inspiration for me. That means better chapters (I hope). However, seeing as work keeps me so very busy, the updating might take a while. I apologize in advance.

(Wow, I actually made it past my twelve chapter mark. I gave up on the last long fic because I got bored of it. Yay for a riveting storyline!)

Raz


	14. Infiltration 'and' Maddened Abomination

**Chapter 14**

Clank!

Creeeeeeeeeaak!

K-chank!

The heavy wooden door slid open slowly, two soldiers forcing the doors open manually. Davidson stepped through the door, arms folded behind his back. "Get up ya pale freak."

Subtraho slowly looked up from the wall he had been staring at for the past twelve hours. Light glinted off ancient bottle-cap glasses as he grinned slowly, showing brilliantly white teeth. Standing slowly from his bed, he crossed his boney arms over his emancipated chest. He barely stood four feet tall. Matted white hair clung to his scalp, looking as if it would blow off with a stiff wind. Pale white skin clung to clearly defined bones. He would probably be easier to throw than a basketball.

Davidson scowled slightly, rubbing the forming stubble on his chin. "You're needed, freak."

The white smile did not diminish.

---

Cyborg was sorely tempted to kick the sleeping Gizmo's chair over. Drool was pooling under the midget's head as he snored away on the table. The Immersion Visor was still feeding information to closed eyes, the data scrolling endlessly.

"He's gonna drown in his own drool if he ain't careful," Beast Boy muttered, head tilted back against the wall.

Cyborg snorted, crossing his arms. "That's a great way to die." He smirks. "Can you imagine it?" The android made gurgling noises, thrashing his limbs around for good measure. "Help…glugglug…can't….gurgle…swallow." He was promptly pegged with a cold soldering iron encased in obsidian energy. "Ow! Rae!" Another tool clunked off of his head plate.

Raven didn't even bother to look up from her book. "Call me 'Rae' again, and it'll be your head flying out the window." She looks up, fixing glare on the poor android. "Without your body."

Cyborg's mouth opened to say something in retort…but the computer erupted into a brilliant, bright light. As it dimmed, bottle-cap glasses glinted before a thin face on the screen. "Turn…on your printer…" The thin, gravelly voice crackled from the speakers as the image's mouth moved slightly off time.

"Ummmm…" Cyborg glanced beseechingly at Raven, Beast Boy, and Jinx in turn. Shrugging, he pushed Gizmo out of the way, who promptly woke up, and turned on the rarely used printer. It instantly began whirr instantly, the hologram attachment flickering to life, projecting Subtraho's image.

Then…the image solidified. Gizmo nearly yelped as Subtraho took a physical step forward, checking himself over. "Ahhh…nice."

Cyborg cleared his throat. "Uh, Subtraho?"

Liquidy, grey eyes, pale and listless, stared up at Cyborg. Subtraho let the brilliantly white smile spread across his face. "You…are in need of my services then?" Then, his eyes fell on Jinx. The smile widened.

The pink-haired girl shuddered. "Freaky," she muttered under her breath. Sneak's head popped up from within her hair. "Oooh, he funny lookin'." Little buttons eyes grew wide.

The odd, child-like person ignored the little fox's statement, turning full attention on Cyborg. "Well? I am not to stay awaiting commands for all eternity, am I?"

The android grinned lopsidedly.

---

"See anything?"

Static. More static.

"Yes. And what a view."

Silence.

Gizmo rolled his eyes as he stared at an OS prompt scrolling with text. "An _image_, ya moron. Gimme an image."

The Immersion Visor suddenly flickered with light and color. Snapshots flickered about and filed themselves to the side as several windows displaying real-time camera panes popped open. Light, shadow, color all converged into a coherent collage of…something. Gizmo's eyes widened as he realized what a certain camera was showing. Throwing the visor off with frightening and reckless speed, he dropped to his knees and heaved his stomach's contents into a wastebasket by his desk.

Subtraho's voice filtered through the speakers, calm as always. "Hmm, I suppose that scalpel _would_ hurt without anesthesia."

Cyborg, clearly horrified, cut his connection short and slumped to the floor. "It's…it's a torture chamber. The…the meta's…they were tearing…they were." He gave a dry heave.

Raven and Beast Boy glanced at each other as Jinx furrowed her brow and sank down beside the android, rubbing his metallic shoulder-plate. Sneak simply huddled under a dirty blanket in a corner of the room, somewhat confused.

Gizmo gasped as he lifted his head from the basket. Shakily rubbing his lips with the back of his hand, he gasped several times, eyes wide and wet. "What…what is that place?"

"A Meta prison-slash-torture chamber, apparently." Subtraho hmmed over the speaker static. "Beastly, really. I mean, the bone saw seems a bit overkill. The giant knives are rather shiny though." A shallow, dry chuckle crackled out.

Beast Boy's lip curled in disgust. "Hey, shut up. I don't wanna hear that."

One could almost hear the frown in Subtraho's voice as it crackled from the speakers again. "Oh, fine. I'm simply stating specifics. Let's try another cy-sect…and maybe that camera over there." More images flickered in the Visor, but no one saw them. As if realizing this, the monitor suddenly displayed stills and camera shots of corridors, stone and cold. "Now, what we have here is a unique Meta holding facility, apparently." The cameras zoomed in on the cell-doors in one window while a cy-sect flicked to and fro, glancing about with robotic insect eyes. Name-plaques came into view. Christopher Crayford, Lemuiel Sivner, Tara Markov. The names went on and on. Meta after Meta could be seen through the insect's eyes, chained by iron and energy-constrictors. "Hmmm, this is Slade Wilson's facilities, correct. How very…odd."

Raven suddenly spoke up. "Why's that odd?" The edge in her voice quite clearly displayed her distaste for the hacker.

"Oh, it's probably nothing." A few more images popped up, displaying torture actually in progress. "Hehe, I suppose you bleeding hearts wish to do something of this little…whatever it is you wish to call it?"

Cyborg stared grimly at the images, his flesh lips set in grim determination. Arms twitched, blood flew…screams tore from the throats of innocents. "Infiltration," he growled through clenched teeth. "Sneak?"

The little fox yawned slowly before making his way over to the android. "Yeah, wa' up?"

"Time to make yourself useful."

---

Raven watched dispassionately as Beast Boy paced back and forth a top the skyscraper, waving his arms at nothing.

"I'm just sayin', I coulda done what the li'l furball's doin'. It ain't that hard, is it?"

Flicking a strand of hair from her eyes, the half-demon sighed exasperatingly. "Just…stick to the plan, all right? I don't want to screw this up."

Making a half-intelligible sound of agreement, the changeling kicked a small piece of paper off the edge.

"Fzztt-Click."

They both glanced up as they're cerebral chips were activated remotely. A pale voice echoed hollowly through their thoughts. "I don't suppose you two are in position yet?"

Raven barely suppressed a snarl of anger before answering. "We are."

Beast Boy merely curled up his lip, not even bothering to answer.

"Good. Subtraho, out."

Click-Fzzt.

Wiggling a finger in his ear, the changeling snarled something under his breath. "I hate him."

Raven simply stared down through the third story windows of the Slade building. The sun had dimmed long ago in the twilight wasteland that occupied the lowest levels. Rats and all manner of alien vermin clammered from their holes and niches, eating trash and enjoying it. It was here where infiltration would begin.

---

Grunting, the hand-sized fox squirmed through the small opening Cyborg had managed to drill through a massive, metal cargo door at the foot of the building. Panting softly for a moment, Sneak zoomed up to the cargo door panel and set it to open before zooming off down the dark corridors, a small earpiece hugging his ear. "Done!"

---

Cyrborg grinned as the little fox's voice rang out between Jinx and himself. Instead of waiting for the door to open, he stepped back, bowing slightly to the pink girl.

Giggling, Jinx touched the metal door with glowing fingers before stepping back as shrapnel flew from the explosion. A gaping hole tore through the door. "Um, I don't really get why you had to get me to destroy it? We could have just...waited for the-"

"Foolish girl." Subtraho's voice rang out from Cyborg's display unit. "An explosion is rather hard to hear in such a big building. And with a lock on the door, the blasted thing won't open even if you set it to. It simply sets off an alarm."

Cyborg simply stared at the human-sized hole in the door as Jinx scratched her pink, gravity-defying hair. "We...want to be heard?"

They could practically hear the smile in Subtraho's voice. "Yessss...Click-Fzzt."

The metal teen was already stepping through the hole Jinx has made, grumbling all the while. "Stupid living virus inviting himself on my screen. Don't wanna see his ugly face. And my connection ain't supposed to fizz like that. Idiot's probably movin' round where he ain't. I oughta..."

Jinx simply smiled sweetly as she followed.

---

Bree! Bree! Bree!

A guard nearly knocked over a cup of questionable brown fluid as he jolted in his seat, having fallen asleep nearly an hour ago. "Bwuh?" A large window looking down into an assembly factory suddenly displayed a map, two red lights blinking. Security cameras and hidden lasers instantly detected Cyborg and Jinx as they made their way down corridors, moved down stairs, and, quite clumsily, gave themselves completely away. The guard, now roused, snorted, before pressing a button.

"Yeah?" The voice crackled over an intercom in the room.

"Yeah, Mark. Get the boys down to first. Two idiots decided they'd crash through." Taking a sip of the liquid, he grunted softly before continuing. "Probably some bums that figured a way in inside." Palming the cup in one hand, he flicked on a switch. "I'll open all frequencies for better contact. I wanna see this."

'Mark' made a sound of affirmation before terminating the link.

And somewhere within the no open frequencies, someone moved.

---

---

Scarlet.

The sands were painted scarlet.

Carnivorous animal carcasses lay splayed open, their bodies furiously destroyed.

Slashed.

Hacked.

A dam of flayed animal corpses backed up the river, the resulting pool a muddy red. Birds and hungry fish dined on the red meat.

Starfire gasped as she stared down at the scene, utterly disgusted. Bruce stood beside here on the cliff buff, simply staring. No words.

"Wha-what happened…" the Tamaranian trailed off.

Sighing, Bruce nodded down at the mess. "This is not a good sign. We have to find Nightwing…now. Let's get down there." Glancing over his shoulder, he made quite sure that the guide was still leaning against the tree, taking a nap. "Before our ever vigilant friend here wakes up."

Nodding, Starfire hefted the faction leader down to the beach. As soon as they set down, Bruce was immediately glancing at the ground, staring at the drops of blood. Making no sound, began following a particularly long trail into the forest. "Come on."

And so they ran through the forest, Bruce somehow knowing exactly where to go. Vines slapped at their faces. Leaves drenched them with dew. Scattered spots of light from the canopy fell across their path, tinged green. Animals chattered at them from the safety of tangled branches. Avian reptiles and mammals stared down at the odd couple from their perches, clicking and poking long, scaley fingers down at them.

Starfire spotted a dibble of blood every few hundred yards, tell-tale signs of a tainted human presence. Bruce, however, was looking at the hurried, clumsy trail his protégé had made through the dense forest. Broken leaves, scuffed rocks, overturned loam, each telling the story of human shoes.

"Stay close, girl," grunted Wayne. "If I lose you in this forest, you might never come out."

Starfire lifted an eyebrow at that. "If I find myself lost, what should stop me from flying above the canopy?"

"I'm not worried about _losing_ you. I'm worried about someone else finding you."

The red-head shuddered at that.

---

Metal glinted in the thick forest as its bearer stared down at a lone, massive bear-like animal, his breathing soft, and his grip tight. Thinking for a single moment, he stabbed the bladed pole into the limb he was perched on. Chuckling softly, the wide-eyed killer showed his teeth to no one as he dove down through the leaves. The animal barely had time to grunt as a flash of black descended on it.

---

Howls echoed through the forest, forcing Bruce to pause. Eyes creased in concentration, he wiped sweat from his nose. Motioning towards the sounds, he began to run.

Starfire, however, impatiently flew upwards. Glancing about, she saw the small clearing where anguished roars rose upwards. Clenching her teeth, she dove down, down, down towards the clearing.

Only to find blood.

Nightwing stood motionless beside the still animal, breathing wildly, his fingers curled slightly. The animal's carcass had been torn open with savage, blunt force. It's jaw was at an odd angle, cracked and bloody.

And the assassin laughed. "Oh, dear, dear me. It seems I've made a mess." Glancing up through disheveled black hair, he grinned at the horrified girl. "I don't suppose you're here to clean it up, hmmm?" Throwing out his arm, he called the bladed pole from the tree to his hand. It swiftly complied.

"What have you…done?" Starfire looked as if she was about to hyperventilate. "N-Nightwing?"

"No!" the killer snarled, waving his arm. The grin swiftly returned. "But I can understand the confusion." He began to walk slowly towards the girl. "Nightwing's taking a little vacation. He got tired of you, you know."

Unconsciously, Starfire floated backwards, bumping into the rough bark of a tree. "I'm…I'm not sure-"

"Shut up! I didn't say you could talk!" The killer waved the pole savagely. "Just listen." Stepping even closer, he let the grin return once more. "You know, you could have been a lot of fun." Nodding matter-of-factly, he chuckling. "Oh so much fun. There was always that element of restraint, though. So...I got rid of that restraint. And now?" Tapping his head lightly with the pole, he looked as if he were thinking. "And now, I've realized that I really don't need you mucking around in my life anymore."

Starfire simply stared, emerald eyes wide and frightened as the berserk assassin continued to speak.

"You were such a distraction, you know." Nightwing reached up and touched a lock of her red hair. "Mm-hm. And, I noticed my efficiency was dwindling." Releasing the hair, he stepped back, playing with the blade. "So, I've made up my mind." The grin became wider. "I'm getting rid of you."

The blade came suddenly, without warning, nearly pinning Starfire to the tree by her neck. Sheer instinct saved her as she became a blur of movement, barely dodging to the side. Slamming into another tree, she began breathing hard, as Nightwing turned upon her, wrenching the pole out of the tree.

Waggling a finger, he came at her again. "Stand still. Can't have you delaying the inevitable, now can we?" Still grinning, he threw the pole like a javelin, slicing a deep scratch on her arm. Gasping, she tried to fly out, clutching her bleeding arm.

Snorting softly, the crazed assassin bounded from the ground to a tree to the air, snagging Starfire's boot. Wrenching downwards, he managed to throw her towards the ground. "Whoa, whoa, baby. Goin' somewhere?"

Starfire slammed into the ground, leaving a shallow indent in the soft loam. Drawing air back into her lungs, she opened her eyes…just to see Nightwing diving down at her, pole first. Instinct took over.

Flash! Flash!

Two starbolts sizzled through the air, striking Nightwing in the shoulder and in the arm. Grunting, the grin faded slightly as the stench of burned flesh and cloth rose about him. Green smoke trailed him like comet tails as he tumbled straight into the ground. The pole was lost in a flurry of dark cloth and blood-drenched skin. Snorting harshly, the assassin stood up, only to get slammed into a tree-trunk by a wide-eyed Tamaranian.

"Nightwing, desist. We have come to help you. To take you back to civilization." Gripping his shirt collar, Starfire kept him pinned against the rough bark, searching for a flicker of recognition in the naked, blank blue eyes of this new Nightwing. "Please," she nearly begged, tears misting her eyes.

And, indeed, a flash of recognition did spark through the crazed mind...only to be swallowed up by unquenchable blood-lust. Snorting harshly, he twisted in her grip, contorting his body into a powerful kick. It connected solidly with her defenseless abdomen.

Stumbling backward, Starfire coughed once before being knocked back harshly by a vicious uppercut to her chin. Before she could even regain her breath, the maddened Nightwing was upon her, raining furious blows all along her body before shoving her harshly in the sternum. "Don't try waking me up, you useless lump of Meta flesh!" Lunging, he struck her in the stomach once more. As she doubled over, he slammed an elbow into her back, knocking her down, prone before him. The grin long gone, he grabbed her limp wrist and swung her with almost inhuman strength into a tree. It splintered, raining sap and wooden shards everywhere. Starfire groaned and slid to the ground, her head bowed.

"See what you've brought upon yourself?"

Starfire slowly opened her eyes, staring at blood-flecked black shoes. They tapped at the ground for a moment, as if an unheard beat were playing before abruptly stopping.

"You should have left me alone. You shouldn't have tried to wake up something buried for so long." Knees came into view as the assassin knelt down in front of her. "Because, while digging, you found something you shouldn't have." A fist swung from nowhere, connecting with her cheek. She bore it in silence, before looking up, her eyes tired and sad. There was no fury in the green depths.

The grin was there, waiting for her. Another fist swung. Another blow struck. Grabbing her hair, he began to pound her face relentlessly, each one harder than before. "You...should...have...stayed...away," he grunted out with each blow. Tossing her head into the fractured tree behind her, he grinned into her face. "But...shoulda, coulda, woulda, right?"

Slam! The tree vibrated as he forced her head back into the tree. "Say somethin'. C'mon. I'm waiting."

Gasping for air softly, Starfire opened her mouth, her lip bleeding. Dripping blood. Her eyes were beginning to swell from the blows. "I...have no regrets."

Those blank, blue eyes twitched. Snarling, the grin faded, leaving only that blind blood-lust. Calling the pole back to his hand, he readied to stab down. "You're no fun anymore."

Starfire simply stared up at him. Not pleading. Not crying. Just...there.

And the blade flashed down.

* * *

Hehehe, I am truly evil. The master of the cliffhanger. HehehehahahaAHAAHA-(gets smacked). Ahem, anyway. 

Yeah, it's been, um, two weeks, right? No? Two...months? Eh? I forget. I'm such a slacker. So, I give you this. A double Chappie. Yes, almost a full ten pages of happy-happy fun-fun time. No? Yes? Feedback folks.

Anyway, I did lose internet connection for about a month. Now, yes, I realize I could have gotten around it, but...I'm lazy. And I procrastinate. But send many loving reviews (And maybe some not so loving reviews, if you feel so inclined), to bug me. I'll answer...whenever I might. Ehehe? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter(s)(whatever). And remember, a writer is only as good as, um, something to do with fans. Catch ya'll later, eh?

Raz


	15. Those Wrought Iron Cages

**Chapter 15**

Gunshots resounded down the narrow hallway as Cyborg and Jinx fled desperately.

"C'mon, man, just let me blast them...just a little?"

"Fzzt-Click. No! Stick to the plan, my eager automaton. Give a rousing chase but do not return fire. We do not want them to aware of any supernatural abilities you-"

Cyborg flicked off the communicator. Clenching his teeth, he snarled softly. "Soon as I get my hands round that li'l freak's neck, I swear he'll be smear on some wall."

Jinx, however, was far more worried about the bullets. Zing! A few, scant strands of pink hair drifted down. "Umm, Cy? C-Could we, I dunno, _worry about our targeted hides_?"

Glancing minutely at the petite girl, he lumbered up behind her, effectively blocking all projectiles.

Clink! Clank!

Grunting, he bore the shocks against his metal exterior. "I'll feel that in th' morning."

Jinx simply kept running, frowning worriedly. "What I wouldn't give for some Ceylon tea right about now." A sudden smile. "Ooh, and a nice, hot biscuit with butter and jam." As suddenly at it came, the smile left. A solid wall of metal rose up before them, signaling the abrupt dead end. "Errr...Cy?"

Stomping hard, Cyborg came to ansliding halt just before slamming into the now stationary Jinx. He stared at the wall. It stared back. "Oh, you're !&$ kiddin'!"

"Fzzt-Click. Go peacefully. Click-Fzzt"

Glancing at each other, then at the rapidly approaching guards, they sighed, and lifted their hands in the air. "Smear," Cyborg growled.

---

The lone, plush hallway high above the commotion on the lower levels sat silent during graveyard shift, whatever few workers tucked away in their rooms, minding their only little projects and tasks. Far down the corridor, a light flickered, casting a shadow for a bare moment. Nothing stirred.

THWUMP!

Beast Boy muttered something around the sudden face-full of carpet, his limbs splayed about comically, as Raven stepped out of her meditative stance. The teleport was a complete success.

"Shut up," hissed the dark girl, glancing around. Grabbing her partner, she deftly hoisted him to his feet. "Will you keep quiet for a few _scant_ seconds?"

Childishly, the changeling stuck his tongue out at her. "Eh, no one's around anyway."

"Fzzt-Click. Can you idiots stop babbling and get going? We do not have all night. Click-Fzzt."

Raven noticeably scowled. "You heard him." Moving down the corridor, she glanced here and there, noting the small plaques that titled the room. "Figures we'd be picked as research partners in some God-forsaken tower."

Rubbing his hair, Beast Boy chuckled. "Am I really that bad?"

"Worse."

"All right then." The smile on his face did not leave. "Ya know, Rae, I get the feeling we'll be stuck together a lot more often if we keep doing this kinda thing."

Lifting a brow, Raven simply kept walking, not even bothering to turn. "I'm not even going to ask for the reasoning behind that logic."

Crossing his arms behind his head, the animorph simply chuckled. "I think that, deep down, you can't be without my overwhelming charisma and great jokes." The blue cloak waved dispassionately in front of him. "I brighten you're day. Admit it."

"Don't hold your breath." A pause. "No, actually, please do."

"Well, aren't we little Miss Grumpy Cloak today, eh? You gotta learn how to smile, lighten up, enjoy life while it l-"

Raven interrupted him with a sharp growl. "There is _nothing_ about my life to enjoy, Beast Boy." Turning on him, the blue girl nearly snarled, her teeth clenched. "And you're constant meddling is only putting yourself...and every living thing in horrendous peril."

Cocking his head, Beast Boy simply stared at her. "You don't give yourself much credit, Raven." His eyes hardened into emerald shards. "And I'm gonna get that past you one day."

Raven nearly snarled again, this time at the determination set as if chiseled onto his face. Instead, her face softened slightly, as if patronizing a child. "And you shall keep failing." Turning around abruptly, she nearly ran into a door. Trying the doorknob, she found it securely locked. "Well?" She motioned a hand at the door.

Beast Boy sighed, before morphing into a spider. The emerald arachnid skittered under the door with agile speed, moments before the door opened from the inside. "Let's get to infiltratin', then."

Raven sighed softly as she stepped into the dark room, glancing about. A lone window in the far wall to her left cast the only light, leaving a patch of shattered moonlight on the floor. Lines of computers and servers lined the walls, steadily humming and clicking in the still, dead night. Occasionally, a computer's light would blink, casting a pale, green hue over everything. On the right far wall, a single door stood blaringly obvious. Reinforced metal wrapped around a lead core, a massive handle, and, to finish it off in grand stainless steel splendor, a digital pad and voice identification unit. The blue girl sighed once more. "Wonderful."

Beast Boy stared at the door. "Sooooo, um, how-" He glanced over to Raven, whom was no longer there. "Uh, Rae?"

"I told you not to call me 'Rae'," a voice hissed...from the floor. A pale hand grabbed his ankle and yanked him down into a black pit that was not there a moment ago.

After a few moments of utter stygian dark and silence, they were on the other side of the door. And once again, Beast Boy was on his face in the carpet. "I hate you."

"Harsh words," Raven uttered boredly. "Too bad I don't believe it." A soft, soft smile suddenly graced her face. "Honestly, you should try to lie better."

"Yeah, well..." Beast Boy trailed off. "Nevermind. So, what're we looking for again?"

"That." The dark girl lifted a finger to point at a lone, large computer console and a chair. There was nothing else in the room. "Kinda spartan. Probably not too much creativity flowing around here."

Beast Boy was all ready tapping away at the holographic keyboard. "When's virus boy showin' up?"

The screen suddenly flickered to life. Subtraho's pale face grinned out at them. "Not to be cliché, but..."

Raven sighed, then pointed a finger at the image. "Just...get to work, will you?"

The image flickered again, before disappearing, leaving only scrolling OS text.

---

"And then I'm gonna tear his arm off and shove it where the sun don't shine. Next, I'll use his big head for a soup bowl after tearing it off and hollowing it out like a pumpkin. Oooh, and maybe I'll-"

"Cyborg! I'm gonna get sick." Jinx pouted cutely from the opposite cell wall, her arms and neck bound in glowing restraints. "Let's talk about something more friendly, hm?"

The android slumped against the wall dejectedly, similarly bound, but with thicker chains. Very thick chains. Fettered into a wall of solid titanium. "S-sorry. Ngh..." He tried for the last time to yank on the chains. The simply clinked and rattled at his attempt. "Y'know, if this doesn't work out, then we're screwed...several times over."

Jinx simply smiled her classic, Cheshire cat grin. "It'll work."

Cyborg simply frowned deeper. "Y'know, for a girl whose lived her entire life in some sort of prison, you're awfully cheery."

The grin faltered for a moment. It turned into something pained and stressed before popping back into a sincere smile. "Silly robot, depression's for the hopeless. I'm not hopeless." She ran a hand through her hair. "Doesn't matter if you're chained to a wall, chained to a lifestyle, or chained to a job, we're all living in wrought iron cages, aren't we?" Shrugging slightly, she smiled arrogantly. "So, might as well make the best of it. A pox on those poor saps runnin' around, depressed in their free world. I'll choose to be happy in a caged one." A soft, warm smile now.

"But," sighed Cyborg. "Doesn't...doesn't it hurt? All the crap you've pulled through? I know it hurts me."

Jinx's smile turned into a chuckle, her round, usually joyful eyes creased in a type of relaxed concern. "It hurts like crazy, Vic. Like crazy."

Cyborg glanced up, trying his own smile. "Doesn't it though?" he whispered.

They simply stared at each other for a long, long time.

---

Clink! Vwhurrr! Chunk!

Creeeak!

"'Ewo? Cy? 'Inx?" Poking a furry, vulpine head into the chamber, he blinked his small, black eyes, trying to get them to adjust to the light. "Aw, c'mon. Say some'ing!"

Cyborg groaned, blinking against the thin strip of light falling across his human eye. "Yo..." Yawning, he stretched softly, before turning his attention to the still dozing Jinx. She was stretched out somewhat, her small chest rising and falling with every breath. "Jinx, girl, wake up."

She stirred.

Turning his attention back to Sneak, he rubbed his flesh forehead. "Well? We getting' sprung 'r what?"

Nodding enthusiastically, the little fox glanced out the door for a moment. "Uh-huh. Dere was a li'l problem gettin' th' key, but we 'ad no problems wi' the mechanical lock." Pulling out a ceramic key card half the size of his body, he gently drifted towards Cyborg and shoved it into a small slot on his neck brace. It instantly fell off. "Itsa nifty master ca'd. And-"

"Just go get Jinx, man."

Sitting up, the small girl rubbed her eyes as the chains slid off. Blinking, she stretched languishly. "Mmm, so, what are our orders?"

Sneak was off staring at a chain.

"Sneak!"

"Wha? Oh, wight. Ahem. 'Stay there.'" The little fox smiled.

Cyborg and Jinx groaned and slumped against the walls.

---

Subtraho lay floating in the matrixes and codes of the computer mainframe. And yet, it was a different Subtraho. Tall, tan, nearly twenty five in age. He sat typing away at an invisible console, his muscular arms blurring over the invisible keys. "Hmm." A complicated code flashed by. Glancing it over with practiced eyes, the living virus smirked, before touching it. "Finally, I was wondering where you hid yourself." The code passed on. He didn't bother to watch it go.

---

Bzzzt!

A guard started suddenly from his seat as his computer monitor began to scramble. Lines upon lines of code scrolled past the screen, a flashing green-black block.

"Oh...crap..." Tapping something into his communicator, he grunted. "This ain't gonna go well."

Slam!

The door behind him nearly broke off of its hinges as a man stepped angrily into the room. Dressed in a dark, suit and sporting an eye-patch, the man exuded an aura of strength and tenacity. Combed white hair pulled back into a small ponytail and scars splayed across his hands simply added to this aura. "Situation?" he asked slowly, his teeth clenched in anger.

The guard instantly stood. "Oh, um, Mister Wilson, sir! I didn't expect you to, um, come down y-yourself."

Wilson instantly stepped and backhanded the guard...hard. He slammed into the wall behind him. "Ugh-ERK!"

Slade grabbed him by the neck, before letting him fall down. "Next time, I expect an answer, not some rambling idiot babbling away." He straightened his suit and movedtowards the computer. "A hacker, hmmm?" He touched a few keys. "A skilled one. But let's see if we can't..."

Tak! Takkitty-Tak!

Blip!

"Ah!" Wilson bent over the chair to better look at the screen. "Wonderful code style, this hacker has. But so very, straightforward."

The guard stumbled upwards, backing out of the room slowly, before slipping out the door, his eyes wide. "I'm quitting. I'm quitting. I'm quitting." He ran down the hall, mumbling the mantra over and over."

---

Strings of code. Hundreds and thousands and millions of strands of text. Overlapping, squirming, restoring.

Subtraho suddenly grewvery afraid. "N-no." Suddenly, his fingers begin to quiver, shake, and dissolve, electron by electron. "No!" Grabbing a passing code, he flew off, further from the mainframe. "Cyborg. Come in Cyborg!"

"Snkkt-Yo."

"Run! Run like the bloody wind!"

"But-"

"I don't hear footsteps!"

"All right. All right.-Snkkt"

---

Wilson chuckled softly, pulling out a brown-black mask. "Show time." He pulled it on slowly, languorously, as if slipping into a glove. "Intermission has run on far...too...long."

* * *

Heyo. It be the author. Hmm, not that long of a wait, was it? Was it?

Yes, I realize I've left you going with the Starfire/Nightwing scenario. That's in the next chapter. Wanna find out? Send me lots an' lots of reviews. Even flames. I eat flames for breakfast.

Anywho, I made Jinx super adorable in the chapter. Why? Cause it was fun and cuz I'm a total Jinx fanboy. Gotta make her cute. And maybe give her a better hairstyle. AHEM!

Next chappie: Expect the expected...maybe.

-Raz


	16. The Second Apoclypse

**Chapter 16**

"I...love you."

SLINCK-KC-CRACK!

Nightwing stood over her, eyes pulsing wildly, his pole extended. He looked surprised, horribly so. "H-how **_dare_** you!"

Starfire gasped before glancing at the burning hole of fire. Tears streaked her eyes as the full, white-hot waves of pain struck. Trying to move, she found herself pinned to the tree behind her, the blade piercing her flesh and bones just below the shoulder-bone. She looked up, mouth agape, panting harshly. Nausea struck her suddenly. She vomited.

Nightwing suddenly snarled, seemingly snapping out of whatever little world he had decided to traipse upon for those scant few moments. As Starfire began to lift her head, he helped her further by grabbing her hair and smashing her head into the tree, leaving the pole where it was. "I asked you a **question**!"

Smash! The tree shuddered again.

Starfire simply stared at him, her lips moving slowly. No sound came out.

Frustrated, the psychotic assassin simply smashed his fist across her face. She jerked, causing the blade to tear her further.

She whimpered.

"I told you to leave him **_alone_**!" Smash! "I highly suggest you do!" Smash. "You don't love him, you hate him! Hate this thing he is! Hate this perfection!" Smash! Smash! Crack!

He stepped back, wrenching the pole free, watching carelessly as the blood ran in rivulets down the weapon's shaft. "Well, nothing for it then." He grinned, kicking the girl solidly in the chest. She hit the earth, tears leaking, eyes wide and despondent. The green emeralds flickered softly as those the blade was pressed into the earth an inch from her nose. "Want to retract that statement? It'd make him less restless and me happy. If you do, I'll make this fast."

Slowly, Starfire turned her head. "I...l-love...y-you m-m-more than c-can be im-imagined." A soft smile flitted across her face. "Y-your eyes. They're bl-blue."

Lifting a brow, Nightwing hoisted the pole up. "Eh, so they are."

Clank!

Slice!

A projectile struck the blade, knocking it out of surprised hands, followed closely by a second, which stuck into Nigthwing's stomach. Grunting, he wrenched whatever it was out and brought it up to his face. A throwing knife, imprinted with the symbol of a chess knight, reflected back his own startled blue eyes. "Crap..."

Bruce slammed into the assassin with incredible force, throwing him to the floor. "Don't suppose you missed me?" The billionaire stood over his former pupil, glaring. "Or were you having too much fun butchering girls?"

Growling like some feral animal, Nightwing stood. Waving his hand at Bruce, he stumbled back, bleeding. "My fight is not with you."

Bruce glanced down at the bleeding, silent girl. He looked back up. "It is now." He swung powerfully at Nightwing's face. Not surprisingly, it didn't connect. The agile assassin ducked, only to be met by the other fist ramming into his chin. He was forced back, grabbing his jaw, working it around a bit.

Snarling, Bruce came at him again, swinging a leg at Nightwing's chest.

Thinking quickly, the assassin let the kick land before grabbing the leg and stabbing the throwing knife deep into his benefactor's thigh. Then, he shoved Bruce off, throwing a powerful kick at an awkward angle.

The blow connected with the small of Wayne's back, forcing him into an ungainly stumble. Nearly tripping over his own feet, the billionaire was able to whip out two knives in quick succession.

Thunk! Thunk!

Both landed, digging into Nightwing's chest. That stopped him. Gasping and wheezing, he touched his new wounds, bringing his blood drenched hand to his face. His heart beat wildly from exertion and adrenaline, pushing his life out of his veins faster. The world tipped and spun as blood loss began to find its foothold. With a dull thud, the ground accepted his body as his awareness fled.

Bruce watched him for a few moments before moving towards Starfire. Lifting her head gently, he stared into her listless eyes. "Starfire, listen to my voice. Can you hear me? I need you to follow my finger with your eyes." He waved a digit in the air before her face. She simply stared straight ahead. Bruce cursed softly.

"Why? Wh-why do I...love h-h-him?"

Bruce was too busy trying to stop her bleeding to really answer. "Good, good, keeping talking. Let's hear what you have to say."

"I c-cann-not help it. My h-heart is...misplaced." She convulsed slightly. "Why?"

Placing an arm on her forehead, Bruce shushed her. "Quiet, quiet. I'll just call for transport. Just sit there."

The Tamaranian warrior stared unseeingly at the great blue sky.

---

Click-Beep.

Click-Beep.

Starfire stirred beneath the bedsheets, bringing her palm to her face, staring through her fingers at the high, painted ceiling, tracing with her eyes the lines and shapes of dancing cherubim and cavorting satyrs. Light seeped in from the massive window overlooking the drab city, in all its massive, steel and concrete glory. The sounds of the streets below faintly filtered in through an ajar window somewhere. A grandfather clock ticked away the time in its slow, methodical way. She sighed, sighed, sighed for a long moment, finally glancing over to where a tall, tuxedoed servant was patiently waiting with a tray of food. She didn't say anything, simply stared at him. He moved forward.

"Madame, Master Wayne has asked for this meal to be brought to you." White hair, crisp walk, cultured voice. Definitely a butler.

"Who...are you?" Starfire was faintly surprised at the hoarseness of her voice. But, everything seemed distant right now, as if she was still suspended between the world of sleeping dreams and the world of true nightmares.

"Alfred, Madame. I was ordered to watch over you during your recuperation." The man stood stiffly and set the tray over her sheet swaddled torso gently, wishing to upset neither the patient nor the many, many tangled clear wires laid like spaghetti over her still form. "And a part of your recovery includes the advent of your appetite." He motioned stiffly with his head at the tray.

Click-beep!

Looking up slowly, she stared up slowly at the heart monitor, before looking back at her food. Slowly, she reached for the slice of bread.

"There's a good girl," hummed the butler, turning to leave.

"No," croaked Starfire, still unused to her voice. "Stay. Please."

Glancing over his shoulder, he turned, lifting an eyebrow. "Dear girl, my instructions were to deliver the food."

"But, this room...it's so big." Starfire felt exceedingly like a little girl, once again, she was lonely. "I just...want to ask some questions."

Alfred stood in silence for a moment, then smiled. It was tight, and dry, but nonetheless genuine and surprisingly warm. "Of course." Pulling up a chair, he sat beside the bed. "What is it you need to know?"

"Where is Nightwing?"

The question instantly registered a look of sorrow and anger flung together, something Starfire did not expect from the straight man.

"He is incapacitated, at the moment. Worry not, you are in no danger whatsoever."

"That's...," Starfire struggled to get up. "That's not what I meant."

The butler frowned slightly and pushed her softly back down. "I know very well what you meant, Madame. Unfortunately, you best forget about it. His soul is gone to chaos, I'm afraid." There was more sorrow than anything in that last statement. "Master Di-Master Nightwing might as well be dead, my dear. There is something quite new and quite horrific in his place."

"Who?"

Alfred sighed, rubbing his face. "Deathwing."

---

Nightwing, or rather, Deathwing, watched as Bruce paced in front of him, his heels clicking against the cold, cold tile.

"So, you've returned, hm?" The black shoes stopped before the assassin. "And what's going to happened this time?"

Deathwing struggled slightly in the straight-jacket, thrashing silently for a moment, before looking up slowly, grinning. "Oooh, the good times have come again, Bruce. The new times are becoming the old times. The live souls will become the dead souls." He chuckled maniacally. "The Second Apocalypse."

Bruce's eyes widened for a brief moment. But only for a moment. Crouching, he leveled his eyes to the cold, empty blue ones. "It will most certainly not come, Dick."

At this, the deranged killer thrashed, moving to bite at the face before him. Bruce moved quickly out of reach, anger clouding his face. He struck Deathwing across the face. "The First Apocalypse was a fluke. Something that, under normal circumstances, would have not happened."

Pale blue eyes twinkled almost merrily up at Bruce. He shook his head, as if patronizing the poor fool before him. "Ahh, but don't you feel it in the wind? Humans and their filth shall be cleansed. The streets will once again run with blood. Light will forfeit to that hideous strength which comes. I am more than a killer, Bruce." The grin widened. "I am a harbinger."

Bruce snarled and struck the smiling face. "How can you **_smile_**? Do you realize how many people **_died_**? Billions!"

Smirking, the assassin shifted slightly. "Wasn't it beautiful? It was a glorious purification." Sitting up from where the blow had thrown him, Deathwing chuckled gleefully. "Oh, it shall be a wondrous time, full of oceans of blood and forests of corpses."

Bruce stood over him, breathing heavily. "Shut up. I'll kill you. You know very well I could."

Cocking his head, the lunatic closed his eyes and grinned innocently. And, frighteningly, it was genuine. "Oh, but you know very well Nightwing, you're precious Richard Grayson, lurks within me somewhere. Wouldn't it be terrible, so very horrible, if you killed him? His blood would be on your hands."

He was getting to him. Bruce knew it. But, there was something he needed to know. "How does Starfire fit into all this?"

"Why," murmured the assassin, "She doesn't. She will die before the week is out. According to the laws that govern me, anyway." He looked up slowly, showing his teeth again. "One of us must die. And to be sure, it won't be me."

Wayne snarled a final time. "Well, perhaps the rules will change." Turning on his heel, he left abruptly.

"Incurable romantic," murmured the unfamiliar voice at the closed door.

* * *

Hey...Um, first off, I'm looking for a Beta Reader for my stories. I need someone not only to double check my spelling and grammar and such, but I also need someone to help me keep true to the characters, the story-line, and someone to tell me if I'm progressing the story to fast. If you're interested, gimme an e-mail. 

Ah, yes, the chapter. I've been reading some C.S. Lewis lately and I made to allusions to the story I'm reading in this chapter somewhere. If you can find them, I'd be very surprised. Unfortunately, the first part of this chapter was a terrible disappointment. I felt like a total failure and gave up for about a week. Then, lo and behold, I felt as if I should return to the story. And, I'm happy to say that the rest of the chapter, though it had no fighting, was satifactory. And for those Rob/Star fans...she finally said it. Happy? Ergh. I could have done so much better. Next chappie, the plot...I dunno, makes pudding? (Duh-hur-hur. Get it? Thickens? Dur-Hur-HThwap Ow!)

Also, I've hit beyond the ONE HUNDRED MARK ON THE REVIEWS!11!eleventeen! Thank you all for the contributions and comments on this story, be it flame or appreciator (I haven't been getting enough critiquing flames, people!). Seeing also this is the first story of mine this has happened to, then, um, let's not get to greedy but...HERE'S TO THE NEXT HUNDRED!

-Raz(illa)


	17. Foolhardy

**Chapter 17**

The dull clunk of metal boots resounded in the metal hallways, lights and doors flashing by, blurring. Cyborg gritted his teeth, putting on an extra burst of speed. Jinx huffed to keep up with him, Sneak nestled in her hair. "Sub. Sub! Where are Rae and B.B.? Subtraho!"

Static.

---

Beast Boy watched the flickering text, mumbling slightly as he read swiftly. His finger stayed for a moment. "The…Second Apocalypse?"

Raven glanced over his shoulder, her hood shadowing her eyes. "Yes. That was nearly a millennia ago." She glanced at him briefly. "What? You didn't study this?"

The animorph grinned sheepishly. "I…uh, didn't figure I'd need to know."

She made an exasperated noise. "The First Apocalypse was…well, no one's really sure what exactly it was. It seemed more like a copulation of disease, war, and mysterious genocides." Leaning back, she rubbed her robe between her fingers, feeling the smooth material. "It was as if the whole world went crazy in the space of three years. Countries were totally wiped out on Old Earth. Some of the colonies still have memorials to honor the soldiers who died." The dark girl tapped the holo-monitor. "But was really weird were the mass killings. That's why most of the people died…or vanished. Scientifically speaking, it was unheard of. People were lying in the streets, the other halves of their bodies shorn off with a perfect precision, the other halves gone. Buildings were sliced up, but there wasn't any rubble. Nothing added up." Raven paused, staring at the screen, her eyes blank and dull. "There's a saying. 'And Lo, Koshchei filled his storehouses with men's souls, for he had none of his own.'"

Beast Boy shuddered suddenly, the hairs on his neck rising. "Koshchei?"

"The Grim Reaper's Russian cousin."

"Ah." Beast Boy stared at a spot on the ceiling. "And the Second Apocalypse?"

Raven sighed,chewing onher lip. "It's supposed to be a thousand times worse."

"Great," snorted the animorph. "So, we got a psycho who wants to bring about a second Ragnarok. Ain't we lucky."

She smirked then, bending her head slightly so that he wouldn't see the half-smile. "The way I see it, this is perhaps the best way to go. The world's, Old Earth, all life will be wiped clean." Dark red began to glow behind her irises, casting a dull red light on Beast Boy's cropped hair. A slow chuckle yanked itself out of her mouth, startling her. Raven gasped, swallowing it back, her voice thick and deep, her eyes glowing brighter.

Beast Boy turned, starting half out of his chair. "Uh, Rae. You're eyes supposed to shine like Christmas lights?"

She lowered her hood further, grabbing her mouth, stifling a scream, her voice now normal. Stumbling, she slammed into the wall behind her, her eyes wide as the light dimmed. "I…" The dark girl stared straight forward before slumping to her knees. "Oh-no," she stammered.

Raven felt a hand on her shoulder, making her twitch. She looked up.

"You feel his pull." It wasn't a question. An uncharacteristic resolution crept into the animorph's eyes, his eyes emerald crystals. Slowly, he lowered himself and stared into her dark hood, searching for her face. "You also don't have to do it alone."

Raven sniffed once, cleared her throat, and turned the hood away. "Surrender is never easy, Beast Boy. It's something I can't do. Don't ask me again." She stood slowly, the cape hanging limply off her shoulders, as if she'd grown old and shrunk to accommodate all the woes of the worlds. "But I appreciate it." She paused, then turned towards the door. "Just so you know."

Beast Boy sighed, his ears drooping. "Yeah."

The communicator beeped at them. Both stared at it for a few long seconds, before Beast Boy moved towards it.

---

"Where are you guys?" Cyborg panted harshly into the communicator, glancing about him hurriedly, klaxon sirens blaring all about them.

"_Uh, upstairs. We got some informa-_"

"Good. Great. Can Raven sense us?"

Static. Then, _"She says yeah."_

"Warp here. Now. We're running blind and we need Rae to sense people."

Static. "B.B.?"

"_Ksssssh…YeaaaaaKsssskggggghhhhKsssshhhn…Ven, run! The…Kssssshh…can't hold th…Ksssh…AaaaaaaghhhKsssssssshhhh…"_

The communicator cut off. Cyborg swore under his breath and ran, nearly dragging Jinx along.

---

"This isn't going very well for them, is it, my friend?" The single eye stared, bored, at the screens. The spherical room was bright, a hundred thousand lights hanging from the cavernous ceiling, glaring down at the massive pedestal surrounded by the black abyss. Here sat Slade, staring at the walls of monitors, his fingers steepled, his face hidden by the foreboding cowl.

The room grew cold for a moment. Something was inside the room, hanging back in the shadows, breathing shakily. The shadow laughed raspingly, before shivering slightly, a hollow sound much like hard pieces of wood rattled as he shook. He didn't speak, but simply watched the screens, his eyes pinpoints of blood red light.

"My sentiments exactly," hummed Slade, tapping a few keys. "Let's get things moving, hm?"

A powerful clanging rattled through some room far above. Slade simply smirked and kept on typing.

---

The hallway...lurched. Jinx lost her balance and fell on her butt promptly, squeaking slightly. Cyborg kept his legs, but wobbled just the same. Slowly, they felt as if they were slowly turning, the clunk and clatter of powerful gears below them resounding in the tight-packed corridor. His human eye widened suddenly, before grabbing Jinx by the arm and turning towards the end of the hall they had entered through. Unfortunately, that doorway had been converted into a solid metal wall moving slowly past their eyes. Cyborg streaked the air blue with oaths, Jinx trembling just slightly behind him. Sneak, however, seemed to be preoccupied, his ears flicking about. "Ain't good, frien's," he said suddenly. "Go other way. We find way out, maybe. Dun't tink ye'll like what ya find when the hall stops on dis end. Big noises comin'. Claws on metal. No' good."

Cyborg stared at him, then smirked. "Guess you're useful for something other than crawlin' through tight spaces."

Sneak simply puffed out his cheeks indignantly, before hurriedly pointing down the way.

The slowing gears prompted them to action, metal blurring as they ran madly. A small opening began to open on both ends of the hall. A massive shadow growled suddenly from the doorway they had just left. With a few more seconds, it clattered into the corridor, before lifting itself on its hindlegs and sniffing the air, massive jaws clacking together as spots of drool spattered on the metal floor. No one could see what it was, and didn't intend to find out.

All three stumbled into the massive room. They stopped abruptly. Jinx's eyes widened. It's was a giant sphere. The entire room looked like the inside of a ball, hundreds of thousands of monitors flickering off the walls. The catwalk they stood on jutted into the exact epicenter, before widening into a large circular platform.

And there, Raven and Beast Boy hung, suspended above the ground, their wrists manacled and tied to poles. Scarlet rivers dripped of their bodies, plopping to an ever-growing puddle beneath them. Only Raven looked up slowly, her hair shadowing her face. Coughing up some blood, her lips moved feebly. "Ge-get…out." It was barely audible. Beast Boy simply groaned, struggling faintly in the chains.

Cyborg took a step forward, his eye wide, before Jinx gripped his arm and turned him around.

The large creature had caught up, and was simply sitting in the doorway, its jaw working up and down, its claws rapping against the cold floor. Then, it laughed a high, hyena-like laugh, before standing again. All at once, one could see the terribly deformed humanoid features. "Sssssoooooo, like mice to the cheese on the trap." He grins suddenly, falling on all fours. He was perhaps once a human. Now, he was a shaggy, twisted brute with lethal metal spikes fused to the skin on his back and arms, all rippling with inhuman muscles. Thin, long, blood-dripping claws fused to the top knuckles of his fingers clacked as he paced, his long, canine-like face snapping long jaws, metal capped teeth snipping at the air. "Too bad it'sssss not I who has the pleasure of rending you apart."

Wordlessly, Cyborg turned on his sonic cannon, aiming squarely for the beast's head. "That's my friend's blood you're sporting," he said grimly, his face a mass of straight lines. "And blood jus' cries for vengeance." The sonic discharge was massive, the blue aftershock shattering several monitors and shaking the foundations of the platform. Cyborg strained, pouring thousands of gigawatts behind the blast, his aim rock-steady.

The beast yelped once, like a wounded dog, the sonic cannon sending him head over heels, his sharp spikes slashing holes into the metal floor. Pushed backwards into the corridor, he fell on his back spikes, his head suspended over slightly above the ground. Slowly, he looked up, his face a mess of blood and shattered bones. Shards of his cheek and nose poked through the fur grotesquely. He tried a grin, but his lips had split. Then, without sigh nor curse, he simply passed out.

Lowering the gun, Cyborg refigured it into his hand, before glancing back at Jinx.

Instead, he met a fist. The power was enough to lift his entire titanium frame a foot off the ground, before he fell in a jumble of clanking metal and blood. Sliding a few feet along the metal, he groaned, before standing slowly, his face dibbling scarlet. Brushing blood from his eye, he simply stared at his attacker, before glancing down at his chest.

A small timer clicked into position before spewing electric over the android's body. He didn't yell, but simply writhed in pain, sparks flickering off his teeth, falling to his knees. Moments before he passed out, Cyborg finally roared his desperation and pain, before merciful gloom veiled his eyes.

Jinx stared horrified at the smoking Cyborg. A strong hand finally released her mouth, and gripped her shoulder.

"This was a foolhardy attempt, you know," hissed Slade's voice in her ear. "For you see, life is swayed towards its end," he hummed, pressing a pressure point in her neck, "when you have Death on your side."

The small girl slumped slowly in his arms, unable to move as lights danced across her vision.

Slade laughed in soft scorn.

* * *

Um...Hi. Yeah. Long wait. Sorry. I ain't Post. :P

Anyway, yeah. Big things. Originally, this was going to be so much smaller, but my brain decides it wants something better. Phwa, all my short stories turn out long.

I blameyou people. Hehe.

Ahem. Anyway, Star and Night wing fight scene in my head. I'm not going to tell you what happens, but that's a given. But make some guesses. I love listening to those.

On a side note, I'd like to thank those people who wanted to be my Beta's but, I don't think I really can contain myself once I finish a story. And the massive gaps between updates are rather sad anyway. I probably lost a great deal of people, if I had a great many anyway. Hehe.

Um, I hope you enjoyed it.

Review, or I shall withhold shiny stuff.

Or maybe I'll do it anyway.

-Raz


	18. The Needle and The Life

**Chapter 18**

A soft rapping on the door. Deathwing simply stared at the door as it opened, an orderly shuffling in with food.

She smiled brightly, setting the food down in front of him. "Good day, Mr. Grayson, feeling any better?" Her soft brown eyes rose to meet his…and froze.

He was grinning. "Oh, much, _much_ better, miss."

She screamed once.

---

The acrid smell of blood rose above the pungent ammonia. Slowly, the padded room was being cleaned of the mess. The body, however, was not touched.

Bruce nearly ran to the room after being notified. Clenching his teeth, he stepped quickly into the room, where the head nurse was shakily taking notes and examining the dead orderly's body. "What happened!" he barked.

The nurse jumped, before standing swiftly and adjusting her glasses. "S-sir. We…Mr. Grayson. He's…gone." She shifted nervously.

"I can see that, Miss Karen." He stooped over the body, his face grim.

Big, brown eyes, glazed over in death stared back at him. Her neck was twisted sharply to the side, profiling the fork in her neck. Her lower lip had been somehow torn off. Several lacerations still leaked a faint dribble of blood. Carnage.

Wayne backed away, then glanced at the walls. It was as if they had been painted with the young woman's life. Handprints and fingernail gouges were torn into the padded walls. This was not a swift or quiet death. Then, something caught his eye. Wayne stared at it in shock. Something had been scrawled in blood upon the wall. The atmosphere seemed to thicken.

The head nurse shuffled up beside him. "D-do you know where he might be, sir?"

Bruce tore his gaze from the writing, hissed through clenched teeth, eyes wide. Then, "Yes." This time, he went into a dead sprint, knocking aside carts and people in his headlong rush.

---

It was a dark night. The Shattered Moon had fallen from the Seventh heaven and was hidden from view. But the stars burned as brilliantly as jewels on pitch-black velvet. Space stretched on for the lucky viewer above the clouds and streets of the City, the high building peak poking like a massive finger into the sky.

In the dim room above the world, the soft, starlit silhouette of a girl stood out against the square of the window. Breathing softly into the mist of her tea, she stared, stared, stared at the open, vast world beyond the City. Forest-emerald eyes drank all they could. Running a hand through her fiery hair, she sighed, pressing her forehead against the thick glass, barely able to feel the cold of the high altitude.

"Pretty bird…" 

She jerked, lifting her head suddenly. Her eyes glowed faintly. "H-Hello?"

"Pretty bird, wants to fly…Into the wild black yonder…" 

"_**But pretty bird is too shy…afraid of the rolling thunder…"**_

Setting the cup down, she squinted into the dark room. "Who's there?" The voice was not familiar.

"And bound to earth, the bird does die…When her wings are torn…" 

"_**But yet looks up, up and ever high…With dead gaze forlorn."**_

Wham!

A boot struck her across the cheek. Rubber tread filled her vision for a flashing moment. She slammed into a small coffee table, splintering it instantly. Fleeting and black, a shadow darted through the square patch of light cast by the window, before dissolving into the gloom.

Starfire bit her lip to keep from crying out as pain blossomed in her face. Holding her cheek desperately, she stood, her eyes flickering about swiftly. "N-nightwing?"

Two red eyes suddenly glimmered out from the stygian black as starlight fell across them. His voice was guttural and low, thick and harsh. **"Pretty Bird sees, hm? Well, that _is_ a problem." **White teeth flashed in a large, friendly looking grin. Seconds later, the sound of ceramic sliding across wood sounded in the dead silent room.

Glancing after her teacup, Starfire found it was gone. Too late, she turned to look for the figure. Scalding hot liquid splashed into her eyes, blinding her. Screaming, she grabbed her face again, almost sobbing. Tea trickled down her face as she groped about wildly with her other hand. A boot caught her in the ribs, flinging her into an unseen wall. Before she could recover, invisible hands grabbed her hair near the base of her neck and tilted her head back painfully. Hot breath and the smell of coppery blood blasted into her face.

"**Hm, you seem to have me confused with someone else, Pretty Bird." **The cold, pitiless voice whispered hoarsely into her ear, cold lips brushing her earlobe. **"I'm Deathwing." **He took a breath to chuckle. **"And you are a walking impediment. Obstacles are too much of a bother this far along." **The sound of metal sliding against metal. A cold pinprick on her neck. She coughed wetly, blood and spittle flecking her rosy lips. Her eyes flickered beneath clenched eyelids. **"I'd say something appropriate right here, but…well, I'm just not that clever."**

He thrust.

The blade never pierced. The blind Tamaranian slammed an open palm hard into his chest, flinging him clear across the room. There was a shattering of wood and plaster, followed by a surprised grunt. **"Wh-what are you doing? You don't want to hurt your precious Nightwing, do you?"**

"I don't _care_ anymore." Her face twisted into a snarl as passionate rage flooded her body like a rolling ocean wave. Green light began to form around her wrists as she stared about. "You are not Nightwing. You are not anything. And you will _not_ vanquish me!"

"**We'll see about that, Pretty Bird."** There was a flittering noise and the almost soundless pad of boots on the thick carpet.

Starfire listened softly, starbolts enveloping her fists as she stared through slowly recovering eyes. A hand landed on her wrist, gripping painfully. She swung powerfully at him, listening for his breath, hissing slightly in exertion. She was rewarded by a sizzling sound and a small explosion igniting just to her right. Through bleary vision, she saw the shadow slam into the ground. Then, her vision blanked again. Frowning in frustration, she fell into a fighter's stance.

Noise again. This time, it was a faint, almost inaudible rustling of clothing. It was right above her. Without a second thought, she thrust upwards. Something connected with her heated fists, coughed blood into her face, and flew straight up, green embers burning his clothing. Wiping the spit from her face, she gave a small sound of surprise as something suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her back in an awkward angle. A boot collided with the small of her back, sending her stumbling. She hit her head on a wall. Hissing through clenched teeth, she felt a trickle of blood course down her face and mingle with the drying tea.

"**Pretty Bird,"** hissed a voice into her ear, cold, acrid breath striking her. The smell of grave-soil suddenly filled the room. **"You are messing with powers you just can't fathom."** There was a sharp pain in her neck as a blade tore across her alien flesh. **"And freaks like you, should die and never rise again. I'll make sure of both parts."**

She listened carefully for his voice, biting her lip as the blade cut into her shoulder blade, before smashing her head into his forehead. There was a sharp gasp of pain and his grip was gone. Swiftly, she rolled back and stood again, her vision clearing slightly.

A flash of something white and silver. She grabbed at it. The blade cut into her palm. Inhaling sharply, she gripped it tighter and then grabbed the wrist it was connected to.

Bone. Her hand closed around bone. Cold, fleshless, and dry. She stifled a scream and spun once, before pitching the body towards a wall. There was a satisfying crash, but it didn't phase her. With reckless abandon, she flung starbolts wildly at the spot she thought he had landed. There were several grunts of pain and a succession of explosions, just before her vision dimmed again. She stumbled away blindly, trying very hard not to scream.

Frigid laughter tore across her scattered thoughts. **"My pretty bird."** A grunt of slight pain and a coughing of blood. Invisible liquid spattered on the hard wood floor. **"You can't…kill Death!"**

A whistling sound flickered towards her. She barely ducked, the blade nicking her shoulder slightly. He'd been aiming for her heart. A grunt of exertion and a stomping of boots. No more subtly. With no other thought, she fell flat on her back and slammed her long legs upwards furiously. Something connected and there was a gasp of pain. Then, for half a moment, there was no sound at all.

CRASH! 

The massive picture window sounded as if it had exploded, small pieces of chilled glass cut into her skin. Gasping, she ran blindly towards the window ledge, straining to see through her damaged eyes. Nothing.

Trembling, she fell to her knees and sobbed softly into her palm.

---

Bruce Wayne nearly tore the hinges out of the doorjamb as he burst into the room, knives drawn and muscles clenched. Flicking on the lights, he glanced around. Utter destruction. Several dents had been formed into the pricey wood panels on the walls. Oak coffee tables and shelves had been smashed to kindling. Books and first editions were torn and burned, still flickering green smoke. One of the lights didn't work because it had been apparently smashed with someone's body. The massive picture window looking out over the city was completely gone, and cold, oxygen-rare winds swept into the room.

Starfire was sitting in a chair, staring at her hands, eyes shut softly. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, blood, and a green liquid. At the sound of his entry, she tilted her head up, but kept her eyes shut. "There was a…confrontation…" she said softly, her voice thick.

Bruce did the only thing he could. Sighing softly, he helped her up. "C'mon. Let's…get out of here and get you fixed up.

---

"'You can't kill Death', hm?" Bruce set down his coffee. Grimly, he let his face fall into his palms, breathing heavily.

Starfire stared at him blankly, her face cleaned and her wounds treated. Her vision was temporarily damaged, so they had given her neuron-contacts. Her usually brilliant green eyes were dim and sad. Her clasped hands fiddled slowly, deliberately. Light streamed through the office's window, throwing everything into contrast.

Dawn had come brilliantly.

Wayne sighed, letting his arms drop limply and swore softly. "We have to stop this."

She blinked at him slowly, before looking down, then back up. "Stop…what?"

Wayne turned his chair towards the window, and stared out the windows, as if drinking in the sun. "Starfire, I'm sure you've seen it." He turned the chair again, but not completely, his face profiled. Only his eyes stared at her as he steepled his fingers, his calm demeanor returning. "The scar. On his back. The one shaped like an 'R', right?" He softly drew in breath, before releasing it as if the world's weight forced it out.

She looked back at the desk, watching her fingers. "I have."

The leather creaked as Bruce shifted. "Say there was once a vigilante. One of the people, but one that people feared. Now, suppose this man, woman, whatever, had someone to help him fight his battles. Say, this…helper still had family. Violent, unpredictable, wholly corrupted family. Say, Death visited their home once, and brought utter pain and lasting marks." He traced an 'R' on the armrest. "But say, in theory, that Death left something a bit more personal. A bit more…well, tangible, perhaps." He softly jabbed his finger into the armrest. "A needle."

Slowly, Starfire lifted her eyes. "A needle?"

"A needle." Wayne poked the armrest again. "Buried deep inside this helper's body. But this needle isn't quite natural. Oh, it's made of steel and pierces well enough, but…it contains a life." The mask of apathy dropped, leaving a deep frown. "A life has been pressed into a life. Whose life? The life of Death. The life of Koshchei."

"How," Starfire murmured, "is this possible? And how do you know."

"There are forces in this wide expanse that we can't truly understand. That is how it is possible." Tapping his fingers together, the man suddenly looked ancient and tired. "And the vigilante made mistakes of not realizing the danger of seemingly erratic and random acts."Slowly, he pulled out a small computer, intoned a command, and slid it across the hardwood desk towards Starfire.

She lifted it and glanced. Her face blanched. "It's blood…it's writing on a wall."

Wayne nodded, quoting the scarlet message. "'And Lo, Koshchei will fill his storehouses once more with men's souls, for his soul returns to strengthen him.'"

Slowly, she set the computer down.

They both stared grimly at the image, sunlight and shadows playing on their forms.

Neither moved for a long time.

* * *

Blood, death, and tea.

This is a big chapter, so I actually rewrote parts of it. I wanted to deliver a powerful chapter so I deleted stuff, added stuff, and so on. The net of effect is, well, hopefully better. Unfortunately, I can't be the judge of that, but you can.

Anywho, you wouldn't believe the writing mood I got into with this chapter. I was like, "Whooooooo, writing is a free drug!" I feel like an idiot, but it's true. Freakin' passions won't let you come down.

Anyways, keep reviewing because it means you love me. And I love, er, love. Eh, it's a day after Valentines. How do you feel, eh?

-Raz


	19. Deathknell

**Chapter 19**

A banshee began to howl in the resounding room, screeching and echoing her long, tortured plea for mercy, for compassion, for anything resembling pity. But her cries were unanswered, and they slowly bled into silence. Moments later, it began again, sobbing and shouting.

He awoke with a start, his green ears trying to shut out the blasted shouting. The keening dirge did not let up, his eyelids slowly fluttering open, his eyes unfocused and bleary. Trying to rub his eyes clear, Beast Boy realized he was chained to the wall, the soft hum of energy-suppressors, like a soft, mocking snickering in his ears.

"D-don't look, Beast Boy," came the subdued voice beside him. A thin hand reached over and pulled his face towards her.

"Wh-what?" Blinking, he stared down at her for a moment. "Jinx! What…what happened? Don't look at what?" With a desperate jerk of his head, he did exactly as he was instructed not to do. He should have listened. "No…" he whispered.

A massive, grotesque of brown, pulsating tentacles had sprouted from the metal floor of the cavernous, dimly-lit room. Arching, twisting, and stretching in a flash-frozen dance, the thick appendages thrust themselves from the floor, and smashed into the roof, before crawling up and out along the cold, steel ceiling. In their center, like a cancerous tumor on a tree, several tentacles bulged out, to grasp their crying, dying victim.

Raven.

She danced like a puppet on thick strings as they sparked and pulled dark energy from her, siphoning her life away. There would be moments of rest, where she would slowly open her dull purple eyes, and stare, stare, stare as she bled, blood dripping from her throat, her forehead, her arms, legs, chest, stomach. A mess of flesh and tears. For a brief moment, she fixed her gaze on Beast Boy's, her lips forming inaudible words. 'Help…me…" Then she began again her macabre dance.

"NO!" Struggling against his restraints, his chains cut into his wrists as he tried to move towards her. "What's going on? You're killing her!"

Like a fluttering screeching crow, a heavy, unflattering chuckle alit the air with all the weight of death. A shadow slowly peeled itself from the wall, and moved into the dim light, as if he were a circus-master walking before an ecstatic crowd. _"Killing her? What an unpleasant choice of words, animorph. I am freeing her, hm? What do you think of that perspective?"_ The dark shadow slowly came into focus, his inhumanly tall form standing before Raven, watching her carefully, before turning himself into full view.

The smell of grave soil and decay swept from him in billowing clouds, his face hidden in the dark folds of a massive, shredded cloak, his blood-red, glowing, pinpoint eyes the only discernable feature. He wore armor of bones, hundreds of thousands of bones, linked together to form a clattering chest-plate, shoulder-guards, and a massive sword sheathe of gleaming white ivory. The black cloak seemed to be sewn from the very night itself, and sat like lead on the floor, lifted slightly by unfelt winds. A single, thin arm held the naked sword of pale silver metal, the hands barely covered in grey skin. The other arm was hidden in the voluminous cloak.

"_The way I see it, is that this beautiful young girl is giving herself, you, and the rest of the worlds, freedom. True freedom in everlasting sleep. Don't worry, you will all contribute to this great honor. And for this, I thank you all. However, death so soon, for anyone, would be unfair, unequal." _Pausing, the other hand slowly came out of the cloak and touched Raven's face. She hissed, as if burned, before he pulled it away. _"No, everyone will fall at the same moment. Then, and only then, will you all realize how wonderful it is to be covered by death's warm embrace."_

For a brief moment, Raven clenched her teeth. "But you're…ice cold," she managed to hiss, before the tentacles constricted her again.

Koshchei stared at her for a moment, before turning away, moving into the shadows again. _"You just don't know what's good for you,"_ he chuckles, melding with the shadows.

Beast Boy jerked against the wall again, glancing at Jinx. "We…we gotta do somethin', Jinx." He slowly followed her arm up to where she was chained as well. Then, slowly, he became aware of the other Metas.

Strung up and chained to the walls, some were gone to the world for the time being, others slumped, hopeless against the wall. Some were even trying to pull their chains from the walls, but to no avail.

Like a fighter with no spirit, Jinx sighed, long and hard. Staring at the ground, she looked anywhere but his eyes. "And what…would you have us do?"

---

Computer screens flickered and danced about in the control room, Subtraho's fingers flinging themselves over virtual keyboards within his suddenly expansive domain. His eyes, clouded over and dull, stare unthinking at the strings upon strings of syntax, text, and code.

"Well?" murmurs Slade lethargically. "What's the progress?"

"The pirate hack is operational. It's also untraceable. I set the parameters to…"

Waving a hand, Slade shuts him up. "Yes, yes. Just stand by for broadcast."

---

She was silent for now, staring out of the massive picture window, swiftly replaced after her violent encounter. The sky was pure ebony, as always, clear of clouds, clear of moon. Only stars shone while they spun in their slowly, silent dance.

_**Tell me of him. I…must know.**_

Tea steamed gently from her small ceramic cup, the cheerful saying on the mug's sides covered with her long, slim fingers. She didn't feel very cheerful, staring at the world beyond, with its oh, so foreign ideals and values. Running a hand through her red hair, she sighed, tipping her forehead against her knuckles, staring at her reflection in the green, wavering chai.

_Very well, if you **must** know...He, was born of a fairly poor family, by the name of Grayson. His family's life was not quiet. It was not kind. Nor was it forgiving. When he was ten, his father flew into a drunken rage, killing his mother without so much as a thought. Then, he turned on his son, who cowered in the corner, eyes having seen much more than they should have. Instead of killing him, the father carved up his back, cutting the letter 'R' into his skin. 'Rejected'. _

The room was dim and quiet, the howling, high-altitude winds inaudible through the glass, steel, and concrete. It felt unreal. Standing, she moved to the window, pressing her forehead against it, laying her hand on it, feeling the chill of the winds.

_Have you ever watched a wounded panther? No? Well, his reaction was similar. Half-crazed with pain and grief, he butchered his father. Slew him without thought or reasoning. Koshchei sensed it. The pain, the death. And he took advantage of it._

As she slid open the glass door, she stepped onto the balcony, immediately being assaulted by the tearing, howling winds. Moving towards the rail, she set her hand on the chilled metal, and stared out over the open city, simply thinking.

_Koshchei is a Metahuman. Perhaps the first known Meta. He is a plague, a death, that does not die. Having separated his life from his body, he has been called the Deathless and the Immortal. His life, or what can be called his life, stretches back to perhaps a thousand years, when he first began to appear in the annals of history on Old Earth. He seeks the warmth of life, the warmth of a soul, as his own is gone and cold as ice. I, when I was still young and daring, encountered him, and fought him. I could not defeat him. But neither could he kill me. And so, we fought on and off, until he had his trump card. Young Richard Grayson._

Her red hair streamed out behind her like a flag as she faced the winds, as if challenging them. Slowly, she fell into position, assuming a classic combat stance. Slowly, methodically, she thrust her fist into the air, feeling the weight and strength of her tendons and muscles, contracting and expanding. She began to train.

_He had planted his life, hidden it, in young Grayson, nudging and poking him towards me in a discreet manner. I found him wandering the streets, fighting burglars and vagabonds, as if trying to atone for his father's blood. Taking him in, I found him an excellent pupil, capable of anything I could do. Sometimes, he surpassed even me. And slowly, his mind was eaten away. One day, he vanished, only to reappear, with more blood on his hands. He'd killed a criminal. A burglar who was unarmed. Horrified, I tried to help him, only to realize it was not Dick Grayson occupying the body._

_**Deathwing…**_

_Mmm, and I was able to wrestle with this dark entity, as it was new and confused. We were able to suppress the persona, locking him back into the subconscious through a strict and harsh process. However, I soon realized that the scent and memory of blood would not subside from Nightwing's mind. So, I made him my assassin, giving his killing a cause, his blade a purpose._

Sweat was swept from her forehead as she went into a flurry of moves, hands blurring, legs flipping, body arching. Running through imaginary fight scenarios, she thrust back invisible foes, fought and tackled, anything, to run from her thoughts.

_And now, I've unleashed a monster. Something long buried has risen to the surface. It tore apart his mind. His will. And now, I fear that this time, we will not be able to pull him back._

And the world flickered…

---

Thousands of worlds, thousands of signals, thousands of eyes, were all captured as their electronic world of televisions, communicators, and computers changed. Before them, like a massive shadow casting its length upon humanity, a masked man appeared before the masses, his eyes staring down at them.

'_Good day, citizens of the worlds, those little orbs spinning in your own section of space. Today, a new era approaches. A new society, if you will."_

Governments went mad trying to find the signal, interwoven beneath millions of billions of others. The worlds' attentions were caught. And the masked man knew it.

"_I now own you. All of you. The richest, the poorest. The sinful, the pure. The good, and the bad. You all belong to me. Why? Well, I set my cards on the table, and threaten you...with the second Apocalypse."_

Billions of mouths gaped, trillions of eyes widened. The signals bounced back and forth madly, relaying his words to all ears. Even Old Earth, in her war-torn, plagued state, could hear the madman from billions of light-years away.

"_Unless, of course, you deliver all power to me. All of it. I hold the trump card, and I hold your lives. You have only four hours to respond...Oh, and have a pleasant rest of the day."_

The transmission cut, the worlds warned, the final gong was rung.

Slade turned in his chair, staring out a window over the world. He smirked softly, turning a small chess piece in his hand. "Checkmate.

---------------------------

Hey, yeah, long wait for the update-ish….-ing. Sorry. Probably lost a lot of you. But I got my inspiration back. This is the second to last chapter, meaning that next update, I'll be updating two (count 'em, 2) chapters. One will be the Epilogue. Yeah, it's been a good run, and a long one at that, which is totally my fault. But at least it's done, eh? Eh:P

Anyway, stay tuned, folks. Hm?


	20. The End of Ends

**Chapter 20**

Like a juggernaut, Starfire burst into the room, the look of panic bleeding her face of color and painting it instead with frantic emotion. "Where are they?" she cried at Bruce and the startled personnel surrounding him. The room flashed and pulsed with electronic fury and humming computers. Tracking equipment, electronic poly-graphs, monitors, all flickered and beeped in the background of the suddenly silent room.

One poor man raised his hand timidly, as if he were in school being berated by an infuriated teacher. "We, um, have no idea. The signal can't be tracked in the time given. And..." He shut up as the Tamaranian just sort of stared at him.

Bruce, clearing his throat, caught her attention swiftly. "Starfire, we are trying our very best to..."

"No! You know where they are, and you know it."

The statement seemed to slap the millionaire in the face, before he began to lose patience. "What? Of course we don't. Our equipment produced nothing."

Nearly stomping across the room, she leaned in close to Wayne, catching his eyes. "I do not trust your equipment, I trust your instinct." Searching his face, she sighed. "What is it your instinct tells you?"

As if finally relenting, he slumped slightly, before sighing, staring at the ceiling, computer monitor screens playing and flashing colors on his face. Finally, "The Monolith, just outside the city, but..." He glanced at her.

Only to find her gone. Clenching his jaw, he growled at his staring staff. "Assemble a team, get Will and Duela, and let's get going. We're not letting one little girl battle for us."

The building sprang to his words.

---

As if he were a general examining his troops, Slade marched along the row of Metas, nodding and chuckling, before glancing at the tree. The tree had begun to glow with a vibrant energy, swirling below its brown skin. "Hmm, half the Metas are drained," he chuckled, lifting his mask for the first time in a long while. Ruffling his sweaty white hair, he glanced at the Metas still waiting for their turn. "Yes, it's a glorious thing ya'll are going to do for us, you know. I'll create a utopia out of the worlds. A place of rest and quiet. No more countries battling over who gets the next planet. No idiots to try and rise above the other. Equality, peace, and justice." Still smiling, he winked his one eye with an almost friendly manner at a brunette girl, who trembled slightly before him. "And to think, it'll only take your sacrifices. The scum no one wants. How great is that, hm?"

He was interrupted as another scream tore the air, a new victim being slowly sapped. Every time the tentacles contracted, his head flew back as he cried himself hoarse. "Heh, pity it has to hurt so much, hm?"

"Maniac..."

Glancing in the direction of the weak voice, he smirked and bent down at eye-level with Beast Boy. "So, how'd you like it, hm? Do you know what that splendid little abomination does?"

The emerald eyes skirted over to Raven across the room, who hung limply from her chains, but he didn't answer, simply watching.

"Did you know Metahumans are born with an added dimension to their quantum makeup? Yes, that's right. Your powers derive from another plane of existence. Probably the sixth, if I understand it right." Nodding softly, Slade stood slowly, hands folded behind his back as he stared at the writhing soul caught in the embrace of the grotesque tree. "This tree is able to tear it from you, storing your essence. I don't suppose you know what I can do with it, do you?"

Beast Boy growled softly, but gave up as he felt his energy drain.

"Why, give it to Death! Make it powerful. Make him my trump card!" Pulling out a large, ornate silver needle from his pocket, he stared at it. "Funny how something so small could control something so great, hm? Just tell him I've got his life, and he has no choice." Like a child in a candy story, he grinned. "Do you like my plan? Eh, a bit late for criticism anyway." Walking away, he chuckled. "You're all going to die anyway."

Hanging his head, Beast Boy sighed softly, trying hard to see through suddenly misty eyes. "Didn't...y'know, think I was gonna die so soon, ya know?" he mutters to no one in particular. Blinking, he cleared his eyes, drooping tiredly against his chains. "So much I wanted t'do. Places wanted to see. People wanted to love."

"Didn't we all?"

He looked to the golden-haired girl by his side, who had likewise been drained. "Yeah," he said, smiling lightly. "Guess so. But I guess we all sort of live in cages, right? Can't do everything you want. Can't see everything you see." Sniffing slightly, he chuckled. "Used to have a name, though. Now, not even that's mine."

Terra chuckled as well. "Yeah? Mine used to be Tara Markov." Holding out her shackled hand, she smiled lopsidedly. "Yours?"

Gripping her hand awkwardly, Beast Boy managed another small smile. "Garfield Logan. Pleasure to die with you, Tara."

"Likewise."

---

"_He's here..."_ The cold voice rattled through the room as the shadow peeled from the wall again, staring about him as if expecting someone to jump from the shadows. _"My life..."_

Slade jerked suddenly, glancing over his shoulder. "What?"

Koshchei stared out over the Metas, then turned towards the door. _"Yes, my life returns._"

"Fool, I have your life, remember?" Slade furrowed his brow as he stared towards the door as well. "You must be finally going senile."

For a moment, it was as if the room darkened, the lights losing their will to shine as Koshchei moved towards Slade, his shoulders bouncing up and down as he...laughed. It sounded as if a thousand vultures had all began to chatter at each other at once. _"You...have outlived your purpose, mortal. You have accomplished my desires and my commands..." _The Deathless leaned down slightly. _"And thought the ideas your own."_

The door behind Koshchei slid open swiftly, a lone figure framed by the bright lights beyond the door. **_"Yeah, had enough of this. Kill him and let's get this sucker rolling._"**

"_Hmm, but of course. My sentiments exactly,"_ mused the shadowy being, drawing a long sword by its bone handle.

"Stay away!" For a brief moment, there was fear in Slade's voice as he backed up, drawing a pistol. "This was not our deal. What do you want?"

Koshchei did not answer, but slid forward, blade humming dimly.

The pistol sparked once, causing the gathered to jump. It sparked once more, before the blade plunged, bullets clattering harmlessly to the floor.

Lifting the crimson-dripping man by the sword poking through his gut, Deathless sneered into Slade's face, watching the endless drip-drip of blood. _"Death has claimed you, mortal. Die with some dignity, hm?"_

Managing one final smirk, the business man sneered right back. "Wasn't…nkk…wasn't expecting _this_, but…" Spitting violently at the cloaked figure he laughed weakly. "Screw…d-death…."

"_Death and Taxes, mortal. You cannot 'screw either'. Just avoid them for a little while."_ From within the cloak, a pair of jaws opened, razor teeth gleaming. The Deathless paused only to laugh...before biting down.

A shower of blood rained down on all gathered. And all feared.

Deathwing stood spotless behind him, watching with obvious satisfaction. **_"Great, who's next for the 'Suction Machine of Doom'?"_**

---

The place was forlorn. Quiet, desolate, and stark. The mountains were high, the winds cold. They were always cold. The City was distant, but visible, the pale sun obscured by clouds trying desperately to shine light on and warm the world. But she didn't feel warm.

The Monolith was nestled in the narrow canyon between the largest of the mountains, covered in snow and biting frost. A great, silver obelisk of grey, flat metal, it pointed itself at the sky, as if defying the deep azure and its limitations. Snow blew in flurries around her ankles, snowflakes biting her lips and cheeks as she stepped through the bitter cold to stand before the massive structure. For a moment, she pressed her hand against the faceless metal, rubbing away at something obscured by snow.

It was a plaque, small and trimmed with gold. A simple inscription was etched into the surface. 'Behold the Monolith, a testament to lives lost for a greater cause. Year of 300 A.F.'

"Demented, sick..." She trailed off, before stepping back. "Not all causes are great." A flash of green sparked in her eyes.

Burning a hole through the metal did not take long. Without hesitation, Starfire stepped through the opening, staring about in the dark. It was still cold, almost more so than outside. Nothing decorated the massive first floor. It was all just...desolate. Eerily quiet. Nothing moved. Nothing at all.

Her shoes made a soft 'clank' on the floor as she walked towards the dim outline of stairs, a bulb of green energy lighting her way. Not even cobwebs had been left or dust. Just nothing at all. The sense of loneliness and of being forgotten seemed to magnify here. A timeless tomb for no one at all. She began to climb the stairs.

---

"**_Hm?"_** Deathwing glanced between his shoes for a moment in puzzlement, as if trying to stare through the floor. **_"Odd. Thought I...felt something."_**

"_Of course you felt something. You actually have sensations. Something I will soon experience."_ Koshchei mused softly to himself, watching another Meta as she was drained. _"Ahhh, to feel something again. To taste something. Maybe I'll put these pretty young girls to use, hm?"_ He chuckled softly, his shoulders bouncing. _"Haha. Ah, today, we will finally win. We will harvest our souls. And we will finally be able to rest! Indeed, this will bring warmth to my bones and youth to my flesh. I will once and forever be as I should be. Alive, so very alive."_

"**_Wait, what?"_** Deathwing circled around and stood before massive figure. **_"I thought I was your Life. What are you talking about? Just absorb my body, and you will live. Isn't that what you meant?"_**

"_No. I will reintroduce you to myself, but I will still not be alive. You have my Life, but I've never had a true life. Since the day I was born, I was dead. I was dead in the eternal. I've never felt anything. Tasted anything. I see only shades and shadows. And I hear only vibrations." _Moving towards the branch, he stared at it without touching it. _"You, a 'once' mortal, have done so many things. You've even loved, however brief a time. A true being. Something that I've longed to be. If I have souls of the worlds, I will be alive, for I will have the only life left. They will surely prize that."_ Moving towards his Life, he set his wrinkled hands on Deathwing's shoulder, as if urging him to see what was right in front of his face. His fingers slowly began to sink into the man's flesh, melting seamlessly into his skin. _"I will feel this. And so will...Wait, I sense something."_ Pulling out his hands from Deathwing's shoulders, he pressed them instead to his forehead. _"Hm, no, never mind. I sensed a hesitation, but there is none in your mind."_

Without warning, Koshchei dragged Deathwing, pressing him to his side. Then, slowly, the mortal body slowly began to disintegrate, softly and quietly disappearing into the tall figure's form. Immediately, Koshchcei's hands began to gain color, turning into a fleshy pink, the wrinkles turning into tight skin. Chuckling slightly, his voice changed as well. His shadowy cloak began to be absorbed into his body, the tendril like wisps of fog vanishing.

"Ha!" Koshchei laughed, touching his young, thin face, running a hand through his long, black hair, and almost dancing with joy. "Finally! After so many years without my body, I have a new one. A fine one." Turning to inspect his dark clothes, he smirked. "Hm. Dick Grayson. A fine enough name. We'll use it for the time being." Laughing, he walked over to the Meta dangling on the tree. "Do I not look young? Fresh? Powerful? Haha!" The young girl did not respond as she writhed in the constricting tentacles.

"You look like you've lost your mind."

The sword barely missed Garfield's head as Koshchei plunged it into the metal wall behind him.

"You again, green one?" Koshchei leaned down towards Beast Boy's tired face, grinning toothily at him. "You simply cannot keep your mouth shut. So," he said matter-of-factly, yanking the blade from the wall. "Since I've drained you, and since you're going to die anyway, might as well be now. It will keep your prattling tongue still, at the very least."

Drooping wearily, the animorph just sort of stares at his killer, breathing heavily. "Ya know what? You may be immortal. You may be death's li'l incarnate. But in the end, you still have nothing and have no one but yourself." Chuckling tiredly, he rubs his green hair idly, utterly at ease with his own doom. "I heard somewhere that loneliness is the worst feeling on earth. Worse than torture. Worse than death. Worse than cages." Shrugging, he spreads his arms out. "Ah well, at least you'll solve a theological debate for me with that pointy metal toothpick of yours. Let's go. I'm tired of waiting around for nothing. C'mon, I ain't got all daAAGH!" The blade skewered through his chest, somehow passing and maneuvering around each vital organ, the tip touching the wall behind him through his ribs. He screamed, blood dripping slowly down the wall behind him. "Nngh. Augh...Y-you didn't...kill me? Ngh. Wha-what? Idle th-threats?"

"Oh, shut up. Obviously, your silence is no longer what I want, since your insolence demands something else." Turning, Koshchei left the blade in the prone Meta's chest, turning towards another figure. "Perhaps _her_ death will be a wonderful introduction to your own." Releasing Raven from her bonds, he grabbed her by the shoulders and dragged her towards Beast Boy. She didn't resist, her eyes half-lidded and breathing heavy. She stared at Garfield almost apologetically.

"Ngh...leave h-her alone!" He jerked towards the prone girl, only to have the blade cut at him further. "Augh!"

"Ah, so that's what love does, huh? Kills the heart?" The Deathless figure threw Raven into Beast Boy's chest. His arms shackled behind him, he couldn't hold on to her, but she lay against him anyway, breathing hard.

"S-sorry," she whispered, not daring to lift her eyes.

"N-no, no. Nothing...to be...ngh, sorry for." Setting his chin on her head, he sighed, almost breathing her in. Falling silent, he simply stared at Koshchei. "Please," he said finally. "Please...leave her al-alone. Augh!"

Withdrawing the blade, the figure stood over Raven, pressing his hand down on her scalp, positioning the blade tip between his fingers to drive it straight through her head. "I loathe making 'idle threats'. Know that her blood is on your hands for the rest of your abbreviated life." He grinned...then stopped, turning slowly, the smile melting off his face. "Hm. Now this _is_ a surprise." Turning slowly, he moved out of Beast Boy's line of sight to watch as the door to the room slid shut. "Can't say I saw this coming," he spit out sarcastically.

"...Star?" Coughing up blood, Beast Boy smiled lopsidedly. "Hey. Join the party."

---

She walked in slowly, her arms dangling limply at her side, her face taunt and lips pulled into a thin line. Her red hair was dripping water as the ice on her head melted. A single drop chased down her forehead and off her nose, falling to the ground.

"Hm, you came after him, did you?" The Deathless half-lidded his eyes, staring at her with a straight defiance. "Incredible. Even after that little 'lover's spat'." Whipping the blade away from Raven, he set it on the ground like a cane, even leaning against it. "Persistence is so obnoxious. You've come to your death, you realize?" As if suddenly restless, he set the blade on his shoulder and began towards her, sneering slightly.

Starfire didn't speak, her face devoid of emotion as she watched him walk closer, wearing Nightwing's body like something out of an old B movie. Her body gave an involuntary twitch, the scent of grave soil almost overpowering.

"Oh, come now. Open those pretty little lips and say something. You're no fun, otherwise." The sneer twisted into a macabre smile, full of painfully obvious feigned sweetness, a pair of elongated fangs glistening in the odd lighting. "You're giving me the cold shoulder?"

"Dick..."

The immortal stopped at that one, his face going slack. "What?"

"Are...are you in there, Dick?" Without hesitation, she placed her hands on his cheeks, forcing his eyes to her own. "Please, where are you?"

His eyes jerk wide open in surprise, yanking his head away from her. Setting the blade at her throat, he forced her back, snarling in an inhuman voice. _"What do you think you're doing? Do not touch me. I am Koshchei the Deathless. The Immortal. The Powerful. You will not disgrace me. You will show respect! ON YOUR KNEES!"_ A bit of spittle splattered across his lips, his voice calming down slowly. "Dick Grayson is no longer alive. He no longer exists. You're search is over."

"You're...afraid?" Starfire stared up the blade to his face. Slowly, she smiled softly, her eyes alight. "He's in there..." she whispered.

"He is **_not_** here." Jerking away from her, he walked towards the tree, towards the pulsating light. "Enough. You will be the first to die at my new hands." For a brief moment, his face lit up with light as he grinned over his shoulder at her, eyes thrown in dark shadows. They lit with red for a moment. Thrusting his hands down, he laughed as the tree constricted slowly, all the pent up energy unleashing itself into his body. The room lit with twisting, melting, breathing light as Koshchei was enveloped by power. His laughter rebounded off the walls, maniacal mirth echoing like a madhouse patient's tortured screams.

Starfire didn't bother to watch, grabbing his discarded blade and moving towards Beast Boy. "Don't move," she said, exerting her strength as she cut through his chains, freeing his arms.

"Ngh," he grunted, instantly wrapping his arms around Raven protectively as he slumped to the floor. "Thank God, you're here, Star. Thought he was gonna kill her for a second," he murmured, burying his face in Raven's hair. She simply clutched at his shirt weakly.

"Yes, thanking God would probably be a good idea," muttered the Tamaranian. A final laugh resonated behind her, accompanied by death of the brilliant light. "And prayer too," she grunted, turning around, blade in hand.

What greeted her was not Dick Grayson, but an abomination. Koshchei was barely there, his body flickering in and out of existence, his body terribly deformed. Muscles bulged from places where there should be no muscles, on a form that was barely humanoid. His skull had elongated, the flesh gone, big, jelly-like eyes turning in skinless sockets. Too big and too round. Massive red claws scratched lightly at the floor and twisting, rotting wings sprang from his back, the membrane torn and black. In one hand he held a massive red scythe, plain and dark, the edge tapering off into nothing, excluded from reality. A long, flowing rode made of black night twisted and curled around him. "Well? Aren't I just gorgeous?" laughed the enhanced demon, his jaws snapping up and down with a bony 'clack' with each word. "Do you seen Grayson now? I thought not."

Raising the blade, he chuckled mirthlessly. "I will show you my power. And you will succumb to it. You have no choice." Like some sort of Halloween skeleton, he rattled and clanked as he walked towards her, blade raised. "Just know you're not alone." His chuckle turned into a laugh as he drove the blade down at her skull.

She gasped, leaping out of the way, eye turning a faint green as the metal floor below her was swallowed in a black rent. Like a blackhole, the winds whipped around and into the black nothing beyond the metal floor, before slowly closing up. "What...was-"

He laughed again, utterly amused. "My power. The blade opens a gateway into the Hall of Souls. The black beyond where nothing is rested and nothing is left alone." The skull grinned as well as it could. "Where an eternity is waiting for the souls of the worlds. Where my soul was forced for so long. I will barter it back. I **_will_** have warmth again."

"You would condemn the worlds' lives to buy back your soul?" Starfire frowned slowly, her forehead creasing. "A long life has driven you mad."

"I have never thought more clearly," he retorted, appearing behind her, blade raised. "You would do well to accept your fate, alien fool." Grunting, he brought the blade down, laughing.

Starfire jerked to the side, the blade tearing into the floor again, only to jump again, as the blade tore into the air where her midriff was a moment before.

---

Beast Boy hissed lightly through his teeth as he watched the battle in his dejected position. The Metas all watched with a dull fascination, unable to speak as the battle raged inches from their faces. They could shout no encouragement, no displeasure. Nothing.

Raven murmured something into Beast Boy's chest as her dull purple eyes watched listlessly.

"Gonna have to...heh, speak louder, Rae." He hissed in another breath, holding the wound with his spare hand, the other wrapped around her shoulders.

"Pause...Koshchei...paused."

"Huh?" Squinting his eyes, he watched the battle. And indeed, before each strike of the scythe, there was a brief, split second pause, allowing Starfire to dodge. "Well...what'dya know." He chuckled softly.

---

Grunting, Starfire bent, ducking the blade as it passed over her once more. She was getting tired, and she knew it. The Deathless also knew it. He was counting on it. "What? So soon? You're energy is draining, is it? Oh, pity, pity. You know, you can make this much faster by just standing still for a moment." He brought the blade down again. "Life's short enough anyway." Laughing, he grinned. "Ooh, irony. I like that." The blade came again.

This time, Starfire did not dodge, but stepped in close, letting the handle strike her. Gripping it tightly, she bit her tongue hard enough to taste blood as the cursed metal sizzled in her palms. "Yes, I know. Obviously, I'm trying to extend it." She reached for him again. "And I know you sensed it. The life in you. He hasn't let go, has he. He's hesitating. You're blade is slow."

Shying his face away from her touch, he snarled, trying to yank the blade from her. "I cast Dick Grayson's soul into the Abyss. He is not here. And I said don't touch me!" But the fingers made contact anyway. At the moment of touch, a black aura enveloped Star's fingers, and the world went dark.

---

_A faint, echoing word could be heard far away. A single 'no' ringing out across the ethereal green mountain. The sky was blue, blue, blue, the plains were gold. The world was fresh and emerald. One tree, single and spreading, grew with gusto upon the apex of the round mountain, green grass spreading out from around its big, raised roots. Green and white shadows twisted and played upon the ground like little imps flickering among the grass shoots. Balmy, soft wind blew, bringing the faint scent of the grapes and poppies._

_She stood before the tree, staring at its great crown, utterly relaxed and content. Breathing in the air, she stood there for an eternity, watching the bark and the world behind it with simple pleasure._

'_You made it.' The voice had a smile in it. 'I'm so glad.'_

_Unsurprised, she turned towards him, pushing her hair behind her ear as she smiled warmly. 'As am I. I was afraid I would not.'_

_He smiled, sitting in the grass, his white clothes shimmering and waving in the light wind. Patting a space beside him, he chuckled. 'I knew you would. I hope you like my home.'_

_She loved his smile. He never really smiled before. Sitting down, she watched the world with him. Another eternity ticked by. 'I am sorry. So sorry I could not have been there sooner. I could not...I was not strong enough to help you.'_

_Taking her hand into his own, he laughed a deep, throaty laugh. 'There is nothing to be apologetic for. It was going to happened. My dark side won.' Smiling sadly, he touched her cheek. She leaned into his palm. 'Sometimes, some things cannot be helped. And my twisted soul was one of those things.'_

'_You had a beautiful soul.' She stared at him angrily, brushing her hair from her face once more. 'None of this was your fault.'_

_He looked down, plucking a piece of grass and chuckling sadly. Softly. 'My conscience tells me otherwise. But...it is all over now. And you must end it, my heart's desire.'_

_The world changed. Trees grew from the ground, turning the mountain into a forest. Their big leaves whispered into the wind softly, a million different voices harmonizing. 'No.' She touched his cheek now, turning his face towards her. 'I can still help you. I can pull you from this monster. We will bring him down together.'_

'_Your power is great, but not great enough to untangle me from my own chains.' Leaning in, he kissed her softly, touching his forehead to her own, smiling lightly. 'And you know this. So, for me...please. If not for me, for the worlds. I am not worth so many souls. I never will be.'_

'_Yes, yes you are.' A single tear rolled down her face as her face twisted with sorrow. Throwing herself on his chest, she gripped his shirt, trying hard not to sob. 'Please, let me try.'_

_Soft arms encircled her. 'Remember when you held me like this? When I would not cry for myself? Now, I do it for you. I do it, but once again I do not cry. I do not pity myself. I never let others pity me. And that rule still holds. I will not allow you to pity my soul.'_

'_It is not pity, fool!' She lifted her eyes towards him, hair clinging to her face. 'It is love. And you would be so cruel to throw away such love?'_

_Brushing the hair from her face tenderly, he smiled sadly again. 'I never threw away love. It was one of the few times in my life when I felt it. It is something I've always cherished. And, I'm sure wherever I go from here, I will continue to treasure it.'_

_The world changed again, the air filling with salt as large cliffs rose silently behind them, the grass crumbling to sand and their seats turning to smooth boulders. Waves lapped lazily at the shore, the soft, clitter-clatter of pebbles rolling over each other in the warm surf. A distant, giant red sun was setting beyond the glittering horizon, casting dark amber light on the white cliffs. _

_Wiping her eyes of unshed tears, she smiled, chuckling brokenly. Softly. 'You're so stupid.' Slowly climbing into his lap, she wrapped her arms around his neck, watching the sun. 'Being sacrificial. Honestly...'_

_He didn't reply for a long moment, simply holding her. 'Call it what you will.'_

_She chuckled, sniffing slightly. 'Yeah. But...can we just sit for now?'_

_And they did. For another eternity._

_However, slowly, eternity ended._

---

Starfire stumbled straight through Koshchei, falling to a heap behind him, curling in on herself. She was burned, smoke wafting around from her singed clothes and spots of charred fleshed peeped from beneath the holes. She groaned softly.

"What was that supposed to be," growled the Immortal, the blade smoking slightly as well. "The funny thing about existing on several planes is that your physics and body take on another shape. A transient, translucent shape. And obviously, a painful shape. I told you not to touch me."

Starfire shivered softly, before standing. She didn't speak, holding her hands to her stomach, bent double as she turned towards him.

The Deathless blinked. "Wait...what...do you have in your hand."

Without hesitation, the burned Tamaranian slowly held up...a simple needle.

Koshchei backed up a step. "Wha...how...where did," he trailed off, the scythe dropping from his hands. "No. Wait. We can talk about this. This isn't necessary."

Uninterested, the girl sneered at him. "He says 'Hi'." She lunged at him as he screamed violently. The needle snapped against his shifting forehead, shattering with the sound of a cracked bell.

Light exploded.

-----

The world falling all around,

The world is dying without sound.

-Raz


	21. Epilogue

Epilogue

_When the world is unfair, unjust, and full of sorrow, one can only lament. One can only cry, raising their fingers and clawing at the heavens. Scream until their throats are sore._

"_Why was my life taken from me?"_

"_Why was my love taken from me?"_

"_Why does my soul twist in anguish?"_

_I know I did. I know I wept. Cried, bent my head, tore at the ground, cursed everything. Everyone. Every hope, every dream, every joy. Snatched and stolen. "Why me?"_

_When the light cleared, I knew I was alone. There, in the steel Monolith, I found myself without a grip. Suddenly loveless. The soul that supported mine had vanished, kicking my legs out from under me. He was gone. As if he never existed. As if the love never existed._

_I was foolish to think so._

_He is gone. His warmth, his touch, sound, scent, and voice. But, his lingering affection never left. It took me a while to realize this. But I did. And continue to hold that bright flame._

_I feel as if he never left._

_The End._

---

Lifting her fingers from the keyboard, Starfire sighed, setting her hands in her lap, reading over that last, simple sentence. "The end? Hmm." Her finger hovered over the backspace button for a moment, then smiled softly. "Well, the readers _would_ want the end, huh?"

A knock at the door.

Moving over to the door, she glanced out the window. Endless plains, backed by eternal mountains. Smiling softly, she reached for the handle, pausing slightly. "You know, you could just come in." And she opens the door.

"Ehhh, I felt like bein' polite, a'ight?" Cyborg stepped into the house, grinning from ear to ear, and lifting a bag. "So? Let's chat, girl."

---

Rolling, rolling plains flow out before the house, reaching eternally towards the distant horizon, the sea of grasses contrasting sharply with the hazy azure. Twin suns blaze down in a drowsy heat, casting everything in brilliant contrast. Light and shadow. She sighed, brushing the hair from her face habitually. But her hair is too short now and bundled, so her red bangs simply fell back to her forehead. Wind kicked at her face, and she smiled into it. Swirling a cup of tea, Starfire turned the smile to Cyborg. "So, I take it you haven't set on a date for the wedding? Honestly, Victor, Jinx will get impatient if you don't do something soon." Sipping slightly, the grin turned to a smirk. "What is it with men and procrastination?" she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

Leaning a heavy, metal arm against the patio table, he raiseed his brows at her. "Oh, yeah? Well, I'll have you know that I'm not the one who's been writing a book for two solid years. We hardly see you anymore, Star." Laughing, he handled the soda can awkwardly in his hand for a moment, before sipping. Then, "Seriously, Star, you should come out to town and see us more often. I'm sure Gar would personally love to unload a very pregnant Raven on you. Have you ever seen a half-demon with morning-sickness? Hehe. Poor Gar is going crazy. It's all he can do to run out and get her crazy cravings."

Setting the cup down, she folded her arms over her chest, in a sort of 'no-thanks' stance. "Uh-huh. I feel much safer here, thanks." She nodded sagely, before grinning. "You see? _Gar_ has more guts than you. He popped the question and set the date in practically the same breath." She stared absent-mindedly at a red-breasted robin swinging low and land on the metal gutter on the roof just above her. It regarded her with a bright, glassy eye for a moment, before chirping softly. The Tamaranian grew distant for a moment, pulling her gaze to the window beside her, staring at her reflection.

"And how have you been, Star? Are you...all right?" Vic drummed his fingers softly on his titanium arm, before regarding her with soft worry. "You can always get away from this, you know. I'll set you in the town. A small house next to ours. The other Metas regard you as a hero, you know." His voice softened, laden with concern. "After what happened, we worry...about you." He spread his fingers out on the glass top of the table. A nervous habit.

Silence. The wind rushed up softly, buffeting her, pulling at her. She smiled sadly, the corners of her eyes creasing in some unsaid emotion. "You needn't worry, Victor. Really." Sighing, she again moved to brush her hair away, but stopped herself. "I..." She shruged softly, palming her tea, her bare feet moving softly on the wooden deck below her. "I don't think any of us will really understand, though. What he went through. I came out here to try and figure it out. Without distraction. In the end, I think I understand partially." Her eyes swept over the plains, and the distant mountains in the west. "This place reminds me of him."

Victor just stared at her. Then, he turned to stare with her, out onto her own private world.

---

The visit had ended with happy hugs and fond farewells. A very pleasant afternoon with an old friend. Discussing old things, as well as new. But once again, the computer screen shone at her, the ending of her book sitting softly behind the screen.

She sighed, leaning back and crossing her arms behind her head. "Mmf," she mumbled around a pencil she'd been chewing. Slowly, her hand moved over the backspace button. Then came down.

---

_I was foolish to think so. His love still throbs in my veins._

_But beyond myself, I find that I understand him and his death more and more everyday. Perhaps partially out of atonement. Perhaps partially to save the world. However, at the risk of sounding egotistical, I believe he did it for me. The ultimate sacrifice. The ultimate gesture of love. I once read somewhere that 'In living we die, in dying we live'. If we cannot give our lives up for something, life truly is meaningless._

_And there, in the Monolith, I saw a glimpse of something. Of perfect love. Something so often unattainable. His soul was flung out past my fingers, and achieved something more. This life is wretched and empty if you cannot live for something._

_There is no end. _

_And, in my soul, I doubt there ever is._

---

She leaned back from the screen, her eyes flicking over what she just wrote. Smiling, she chuckled, saved it, and closed the screen. "That'll do."

Without reason, she pushed away from the desk, and walked out to the front porch, staring at the dirty tea cup and fragments of biscotti from early in the day, and then ignored them, looking out over the plains. The sun was setting, casting fire and dying heat across the land, bruising the fat, puffy clouds with dark purples and soft pinks. Scents of the plain fill her, the dark earth, the yellow grass, the smell of rain over the mountains.

And far in the distance, framed by the setting rays, stood a figure clothed in white, smiling, his startling blue eyes unhidden. Black hair waved behind him in the breeze, his hands casually set in his pockets. He lifted his hand, and waved, smiling softly, his features clear from even this distance.

Him.

She couldn't help it. Leaning on the banister of the porch, she smiled at the distant, fading figure.

And waved back.

---

_The End?_

_No._

_The Beginning._

-Razvanor


	22. Author's Ending Notes

_**Author's Notes**_

Well, that's the end of Wrought Iron Cages. For those still with me, thanks for sticking it out. I started this sucker when I was in eleventh. Now, it's my second semester of my first year in college.

Procrastination indeed.

Anyway, this story, if you might have noticed, has some Christian undertones. That may or may not be purposeful, I'm trying to make up my mind. But the concept of sacrificial, unconditional love is a powerful one nonetheless. The kind of love that makes you take a beating and death for a friend, or loved one, is poignant, and splashed across the pages of time. I liked it, and my story sort of evolved around it.

One thing you may have noticed about the story is that its premise changes a lot. The beginning was based on another fanfiction I read called 'Broken Pieces', a really well done piece by Blue Jeans, I believe. But it sort of got ahead of itself, and changed into something more supernatural. Koshchei the Deathless is actually a Russian fairytale which struck me as something I'd like to write about. And what do you know, he's in there.

Well, for those who have read this story, I thank you. A lot. I honestly didn't expect this to be too big. It's not really big, but it's big enough to satisfy me.

And for those who reviewed? I wanna give you each a great big hug. If you're a guy, in a non-gay way. If a girl, eh,…..fine, fine, in a non-sexual way. So, to all of you, I give a cyber-hug. That's about all I can manage though.

Anyway, I think this is it for me and fanfiction, unless something changes soon. Once again, thanks for the patronage.

Have a good one,

-Razvanor


End file.
